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howlingday · 3 months

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Ask Jaune is kratos grandson. Team CREM Isabel to learn what happens when you touch one of his kin at the fall. The brother gods are lucky they ain't got shit to do with this.

The End Beginning

Everywhere Kratos looked, he saw only chaos. As much as he desired to join the fight against the invading Grimm, his family came first. Unfortunately, that meant Jaune, his grandson, was left behind while he guided the rest of his family to the bullheads. He would have to come back for Jaune.

"Grandpa, wait-!" Saphron called to him while her wife held their crying son close.

"I must go back for Jaune!" He barked in reply.

"But-!"

"Let him go, Saph." His son replied. The two men looked to each other, and both nodded. "Keep him safe."

Kratos nodded again, then ran from the bullhead. It roared as it took to the sky behind him, now filled with evacuating citizens. A griffon attempted to charge the aircraft, only to find its head had been separated from its neck. Kratos held his hand out as his family escaped and his axe returned to his hand.

He then joined the Battle for Beacon.

----------------------------------------------

Jaune and Pyrrha fled from Beacon Tower, panting as Ozpin was left to battle the newly made Fall Maiden alone. Pyrrha then looked to the top of the tower, noticing the flare of light high above.

"Hang on, I'll call Glynda." Jaune pulled out his scroll. Before he sent the call, Pyrrha's locker landed with a crash behind him. He hurried around to where a now empty locker sat. "Pyrrha, what are you doing?!"

"I have to go, Jaune." Pyrrha replied, not taking her eyes off the tower. Save, only, for when a horrible shriek echoed from above.

A Grimm, one far more massive than any they had ever face before, landed with a crash on the top of the tower. It screamed as rocks and debris fell to the ground from above. As if on instinct, Pyrrha ran for the tower.

"Pyrrha, wait!"

"I have to, Jaune!"

"Why?!" He shouted. "Just wait until-!"

"I can't, Jaune!" She shouted back. "This... This is my destiny!"

"Then... Then let me go with you."

"You can't!"

"Why not?!"

Pyrrha clenched her first, struggling to look Jaune in his beautiful, blue eyes. Much like how she allowed her passion take hold of her, she too took hold of Jaune and pressed her lips to his. Tears began to flow from her eyes as he returned her kiss, confirming his feelings for her were as mutually felt as his. She then let her hands slip below to his chest...

...and shoved him into her locker, slamming it shut.

"PYRRHA, NO!" He smashed his fist on the inside of the door. She could only reply with a sob as she tapped on her scroll, pushing in the coordinates of somewhere safer. She then turned away and ran after pressing the launch button. "PYRRHA!" He cried as he lifted into the air.

"HRRGH!" She turned and saw a burly man taking hold of the locker, risking his arms of burning from the launch jets. "JAUNE! CURL!" He roared over the engines, then stepped away as he pulled it down, closer to him. Once he pulled it down, he let go and allowed it to crash to the tower. More debris then fell atop it, sealing the locker under rubble of solid stone.

"JAUNE!" Pyrrha screamed, running to the pile of rocks covering her lover. As she removed the first stone, the locker was pulled free from the stone prison. Jaune's grandfather then ripped open the metal door.

"Grandpa?" Jaune looked to the towering man. Or, well, towering from where he lay.

"Can you stand?" His grandfather asked.

"Yeah." He then pulled himself free from the metal near-casket. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to help you."

"Oh, uh..." Jaune looked over to Pyrrha, he saw her run for the door. "Wait, Pyrrha, no!"

Before she could enter, an axe soared through the air, lodging itself inside the elevator. Pyrrha ducked and stayed low to the floor, looking up to find the blue blade humming above her. She looked behind her, finding Jaune and his grandfather approaching her. The older of the two lifted his hand, and his axe returned to his hand.

"Why did you attack my grandson?" He asked, a rumble of rage in his voice.

"I- I didn't!" Pyrrha replied.

"You sought to trap him inside the locker." He reasoned. "Why?"

"He..." She gulped. "I have to face my destiny."

"You would seek your death alone?"

"I have to do this!"

"Not without me!" Jaune argued. "We're partners, Pyrrha!"

"No, I..." Pyrrha swallowed. "I can't risk losing you, Jaune!"

"Then you would risk him losing you. You would risk being selfish."

"No, that's not-"

"Ozpin is dead, Pyrrha!" Jaune argued,

"And you believe you would succeed where he failed?" The burly elder summarized. The Grimm above roared again, drawing attention to the trio. "Against that?"

Pyrrha wanted to cry. She had been selfish. In her haste to meet her destiny, she had forgotten how powerful she truly was, with half of her life drained by the machine below the tower. She'd forgotten how much more powerful her enemy truly was.

"I will destroy the Grimm." The bearded man said. "You may assist."

"But-" Pyrrha felt a hand on her shoulder. Following the arm, she found Jaune looking at her with a determined face, those same beautiful eyes filled with tears.

----------------------------------------------

"Your grace..." Salem did little more than tilt her head as her pawn, Cinder Fall, returned. Even looking away, she could hear her ragged breaths and the dripping of blood on the floor near the Seer. "We... We failed."

"You failed?" Salem asked. "And pray tell, how did you fail to destroy Beacon?"

"I..." There was a pause, followed by softer breathing. She'd passed out.

"There was a man." Cinder's pawn, Emerald, answered in her place. "Someone we didn't account for."

"A mere man stopped you?" Salem asked. She then turned, her piercing red eyes narrowed. She was fully aware of what killed her Wyvern, and even moreso aware of his history. "Or was it a Ghost?"

#rwby #god of war #kratos #jaune arc #saphron cotta arc #papa arc #cinder fall #arkos #pyrrha nikos #salem #emerald sustrai

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notmaplemable · 11 months

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9 Days Of Lancaster Day 8: Meeting The Family

RJ: *Standing outside the Arc household*

Jaune: Nervous?

Ruby: A little bit.

Jaune: Don't be, they'll love you. And I mean, you meeting my family can't go any worse than me meeting yours.

Ruby: What do you mean? Dad loved meeting you, and Uncle Qrow likes you more than he likes most people.

Jaune: I meant throwing up on Yang.

Ruby: Oh... Yeah, hopefully I can do better than... that.

Jaune: You will. You did great when you met Saph and Terra.

Ruby: But we weren't dating then, and two people are easier to deal with than ten!

Jaune: Well... you aren't wrong.

Ruby: You're supposed to encourage me!

Jaune: I have been.

Ruby: Well I don't feel encouraged!

Jaune: *Sighs* Let's just go meet everyone.

------

Ruby: H-Hello, my name is Rubin Rose!... I mean Robin Rose!... I mean Ronald Rose!... I mean-!

Jaune: This is Ruby.

Ruby: RUBY ROSE!

Mama Arc: *Chuckles* Well aren't you adorable.

Papa Arc: There's no need to be so nervous, Ruby. We've heard a lot about you.

Mama Arc: And if you're anything like your mom, you'll get along with the girls just wonderfully.

Papa Arc: Hopefully.

Jaune: Where is everyone else anyways?

Mama Arc: In the den, we wanted to give Ruby a little bit of breathing room before we throw her to the wolves. *Chuckles*

Ruby: *Mortified*

Jaune: Thanks mom, really helping her anxiety there.

Mama Arc: Oh I'm just teasing.

Jaune: Tease less, please.

Mama Arc: Oh sure, sure. Let's go introduce her to the girls! *Grabs Ruby's hand and drags her away*

Ruby: Eeep!

Jaune: Oh, boy.

Papa Arc: This is going to be a... fun day.

------

Mama Arc: This is Ruby Rose, Summer's youngest daughter, and Jaune's fiancée! Isn't she just adorable?

Arc girls: *Various forms of yes*

Ruby: H-h-h-hi?

Mama Arc: Now, you already know Saphron and Terra.

Terra: Hello again, Ruby.

Saphron: It's been too long. I like what you're doing with your hair now, though.

Ruby: T-thank you. It's good to see you two again.

Mama Arc: This is Garnet, our oldest.

Garnet: I see you like red a lot.

Ruby: Yeah, it's my favorite color.

Garnet: Well, we have that in common. And from what I've been told about you, I look forward to having you as a little sister.

Ruby: Oh, umm. Thanks?

Mama Arc: This is Jaune's twin sister, Joan.

Joan: It's nice to meet you.

Ruby: It's nice to meet you too, you look a lot like Jaune.

Joan: Except a good bit shorter and a lot less muscular now. *Chuckles* He's changed a lot since he left.

Ruby: Yeah.

Joan: Mostly for the better it seems, and I believe I have you and the rest of his friends to thank for that.

Mama Arc: This is Kelly.

Kelly: So, I hear you like weapons.

Ruby: They're my second most favorite thing in the world.

Kelly: Can you show me some cool weapons sometime?

Ruby: Sure! I mean, if you want me to.

Kelly: I do! This is going to be so awesome!

Mama Arc: This is Livie.

Livie: Sup?

Ruby: Umm, not much?

Livie: Hmm.

Mama Arc: She doesn't talk much, now onto the second set of twins. Milly and Amethyst.

Milly: You seem really cool!

Amethyst: You stole my big brother you harlett!

Ruby: Umm, I don't know what that means.

Milly: She just called you a w-

Mama Arc: And that's enough of that conversation! Let's eat!

------

Several hours later.

Jaune: See, I told you it wouldn't be that bad.

Ruby: Your little sister called me a "harlett".

Jaune: She's just getting used to me dating. It'll all be better after a good night's sleep.

Ruby: Where am I supposed to sleep?

Jaune: We have a ton of guest room you can stay in.

Mama Arc: Actually, I donated all of the beds in the guest room to charity.

Jaune: What? Why?

Mama Arc: It doesnt matter why! *Starts pushing Jaune and Ruby towards Jaune's room* You two can just sleep together in Jaune's room while you're staying here!

Jaune: Mom!

Ruby: *Blushing*

Mama Arc: *Pushes them into the room* Have a good night you two~! *Leaves*

Jaune and Ruby look around at Jaune's room, which is currently lit by several candles with some soft romantic music playing in the background.

Jaune: ...

Ruby: ...

#rwby #9 days of lancaster #lancaster #jaune arc #ruby rose

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tiffaluvr · 4 months

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Hi!! I'm one of the active people in the tumblr branch of the HCH fandom!! For some reason I like asking a set of questions to other HCH fans sdv;gjkerlgk I wanted to ask you too ^^

No pressure to any of them, as in you don't have to answer if you don't want to, and take as much time as you need if you do want to answer!!

Favourite HCH character?

Favourite panel/screenshot of said character?

Thoughts/opinions on Nicolosi? Negative, positive, and neutral are okay!

Any HCH headcanons, theories, or OCs?

Again, no pressure ^^ Have a good new year :]

hi fuzzy!! tysm for asking ^^ this is actually a very cute fandom thing to do, considering it's also a small community so it's a great way to know each other's opinions :D

I'll answer under the cut just to prevent clogging other people's dashboards

1. Fav HCH character:

I also love very much Percy and Luna!!

When it comes to picking a fav I'm always indecisive because each media I like has me attaching to at least 3 of them (⁠●⁠_⁠_⁠●⁠) my top fav tho has to be Sapphia! loved her since the start she's just too iconic (and her backstory is actually so sad that's why I grew attached to her)

(and I'll add again that my user on here was sapphialuvr before I came back a year later and was mad indecisive between tiffaluvr or ryuuluvr but tiffa sounded better)

2. Fav panel/screen of said character:

Nice question because there's some screens where they're together!

One of them is the one where Marla sneaks out with Sapphia but nobody (minus a few) knew it was her. So when Percy was on the tower, and she says "August says hi!", ofc he's confused

(the lil Percy is so silly like cmon 😭)

As for Luna (and Saph again) i was laughing SO HARD when she clashed at the wedding because her bestie had stolen her crush (which sounds like an average american rom-com), and when she was talking with Sapphia about this, girl had only one way to stop her:

and unironically, this picture has been in my camera roll favorites since then

(in between of friends picture, a wallpaper and more webtoon screens)

3. Thoughts/Opinions on Nicolosi (negative/positive/neutral)

Definitely hated him at some point (or more than one) because of his behaviour at the party (?) (I forgot if it was a party that August organized but u get it), where Sapphia clearly acted out of impulse and then we all know what happened next.

Also in the backstory where he was super mean to her, ableist, hated her for being a lesbian and kept forcing himself to believe she was the villain!!! oh, and the desperate try to stop the wedding.

I have no idea if he's converting back to being good or something, since we can see him finally coming to his senses after the closet scene (percy in the closet and august confessing), I really hope tho!! would love to see a redemption arc

4. Any OCs/Theories/Headcanons

My biggest theory was the whole Lucas/Luna/Lucille thing (I had figured out Lucille was Lucas b4 the transition, and Luna was his sister). I had a whole document about it where I color picked stuff and helped with a few lines from diff chapters! Took it very seriously (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) Canvas readers already knew, but for me (and anyone else) who started reading in 2022, clearly it was new stuff!! I remember sending the doc to a few friends and convincing them of the theory being real, it was fun ngl!!

Other than that, I don't have any particular headcanons, and no OCs (but would love to see if someone has any!)

That's it!! Again, ty for asking! This was very fun ^^ Can't wait for the new season to start so we can comment it together and make the community even more active!!

And happy new year to u too!

#kikiposting to its finest #hch #high class homos #highclasshomos

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musings-from-mars · 2 years

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@dragonslayer-week 2022 Day 2 (July 26): Nerd Yang / Jock Jaune

(High School AU)

Whatever the deal was with these guys, Jaune would never know. He has spent all summer practicing, preparing for football season, but even with how much he had improved with his catching and route running, his "teammates" did not seem to like him at all. Four in particular. Was it because he'd improved? No, it's not like he would be taking any of their spots on the team. He was good, but not better than them.

But every day of summer workouts, Jaune would arrive to the locker room and either receive the cold shoulder from them, or receive short, combative warnings from them, about staying out of their way, "Don't look at me, Jaune boy."

His coaches weren't much help. "They're just being competitive." Again, Jaune knew that wasn't it. Why be so competitive with the 3rd string tight end?

It was Friday, scrimmage day. Jaune was having a good practice, having not dropped a single pass thrown his way, unless you count that throw that ended up intercepted because that definitely was not his fault. A few teammates were encouraging, but those same four guys, Cardin, Dove, Skye and Russel, could not stop making him feel uneasy.

After a particularly rough shove from Cardin, during a minimal-contact run-through, Jaune finally had enough. "What is your problem with me?!" He asked, pushing himself back up to his feet. He did not want to get into a fight with this guy, but Cardin was advancing towards him. Other team members and a coach had to step in.

The question was genuine. He really wanted to know why Cardin and his buddies were so hostile towards him. Jaune didn't think he'd done anything to them. In fact, he generally avoided them for obvious reasons. He didn't get an answer. The coach told Cardin to go take a seat on the bench for the rest of practice. He'd get a talking to afterwards.

After practice, Jaune waited on the curb near the field as usual, waiting for his ride home from his older sister (he could not wait to get his own car, whenever that day would come). Saph was notorious for running late, so he would probably be there for a while. And in this heat? He was fine with just sitting here instead of getting a little extra practice in like other team members often did. He just sat under this tree, on his phone.

Jaune: Practice is over. Now the wait begins

Yang: Lol nice. Wanna hang out later

Jaune: Maybe after I shower. And nap. And eat like ten hamburgers or smthn. Probably shower twice

Yang: Stinky

Jaune: Hey

Jaune: You're not wrong

He had been friends with Yang since they were kids, when his family would take vacations to Patch. Then Yang's family moved here, three blocks away from Jaune's house. That trip between houses was made many times on bikes. Or in Yang's case, on bikes, then on motorized bikes, and as she had been working on for a long time, eventually a proper motorcycle. She'd been saying she wanted to finish it before the school year started, and she promised she'd start giving Jaune rides to and from school. He wasn't completely up for it, given Yang had a reckless streak, but riding a motorcycle definitely sounded fun, even if it definitely would get him in trouble with his parents if they new about it. But Yang was wildly smart, so he wasn't worried about anything with the bike itself (he was still amazed that her dad let her build one).

This was an unusually long wait. Maybe Saph was occupied with her college classes, or studying, or Terra. He had probably been here for about an hour when he noticed someone walking his way. It was Cardin and his crew.

Yang: Hey, wanna see something cool?

Jaune didn’t have time to respond. These four were heading his way with a purpose. A purpose he was not excited about dealing with. He stood to his feet, trying to seem brave, but much like when on the field, he didn’t like his chances against four big defenders.

“You’ve fucked up, Jaune boy,” Cardin said. He towered about a foot taller than Jaune, and significantly wider too. He could probably squeeze the sap out of a tree trunk.

“What did I do?” Jaune asked, curious of what he’d say. Again, he legitimately wanted to know.

“Like you don’t know,” Cardin said, slowly closing the distance between them. Jaune instinctively began backing up, onto the empty road.

“I really don’t,” Jaune said. “You guys come after me for no reason.”

“There’s plenty of reason, pussy,” Cardin spat. “You think you’re all that, you think you’re better than me, well I’ll teach you, get you to know better.”

“What?” Jaune never considered himself better than Cardin. Football wise, anyway. They played two completely different positions. As a person, though? He was definitely a better person than Cardin.

“That girlfriend of yours,” Cardin continued. “No, actually, that bitch of yours.”

Girlfriend? This was news to Jaune. Wait… “You mean Yang?”

“Uhhh ‘you mean Yang?’” Skye mocked, chuckling with the others as they stood behind Cardin.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jaune said. “And she’s not a bitch, either.”

“Oh yes she is,” Cardin said. “She never told you? What she did to me?”

Jaune tilted his head. “Huh?”

“She stood me up, for you.”

Since when did Yang agree to go on a date with Cardin Winchester? “What?”

“She just needs to see who the real man here is,” Cardin said. “Not some piss rag like you.”

“I don’t know what you’ve convinced yourself is true, but Yang would never want to go out with you,” Jaune told him.

“That’ll change.” Cardin grinned and clapped his hands, rolling his shoulders as if warming up.

Jaune considered running, but where to? Besides, there was four of them, and Skye was especially fast. He was stuck here. Would he really have to do this?

“What’s it gonna be, Jaune boy?” Cardin said, standing and waiting to see if Jaune would step up. “Fight like a man?”

Jaune remembered something his dad once told him. “Men don’t fight, but children do.” Too bad Cardin was being a very big, very angry child right now. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. Yep, he had no choice…

“Pussy,” Cardin said and set on Jaune, stomping forward. Jaune began backtracking, evading Cardin’s attempts to grab and punch him. Jaune managed to shove him away, but that wouldn’t keep working. Fuck, where was Saph? Or the coach? Anyone that could stop this? Jaune just wanted to go home.

Cardin landed a glancing blow to Jaune’s temple. It didn’t exactly hurt that much, but triggered reflex tears in his eye, which steamed down his face. “Yeah, cry,” Cardin taunted, only for Jaune to quickly lower his shoulder and block him backwards. Cardin was surprised and stumbled back, falling to his butt.

Jaune took a shaky breath and stepped back. Maybe he’d stop now?

No, of course not, and now Cardin was even more angry. She got up and grunted, breaking into an almost-run towards Jaune.

It was then that Jaune heard the sound of a motor quickly approaching. He turned to look down the street. It was a yellow motorcycle, the rider wearing a very recognizable flaming gold helmet.

“Yang?” Jaune muttered, only to get punched in the face. He partially dodged, taking it just under the eye instead of the nose. He fell to the ground, but when he looked back up, Cardin’s attention was turned toward Yang, who had skidded to a stop and dismounted her newly completed motorcycle.

“Oh hey, look who showed up,” Cardin said, grinning at Yang. He cracked his knuckles. “Don’t worry, hun. Just settling some issues.”

Yang was dressed in a brown jacket over an orange tank top and black jeans. She slipped the helmet off her head, letting her hair fall and revealing a very angry expression. She kept toward Cardin.

“Yeah yeah, that’s it, bring it in, cutie,” Cardin said, arms outstretched as if expecting a hug.

He instead got a helmet to the teeth.

Cardin stumbled to his knees and roared in pain. He held his mouth, blood dripping on the street. “Whath the thuck?!”

Yang looked at the other three, all wide-eyed and frozen in place.

“Oh, shit.” Jaune muttered.

“Fuck outta here,” Yang grumbled to the three, and gestured to Cardin with her helmet. “And take him and his teeth with you.”

“Thuck you!” Cardin cursed as he stumbled to his feet.

“Come on, let’s tell coach,” Dove suggested.

“Yeah, tell your coach a girl knocked your huge gopher teeth out, tough man,” Yang said with a smile, flashing her silver braces.

“Thut the thuck up, bisch!” Cardin yelled, his voice breaking. The four turned and left, likely to get Cardin home and call a dentist.

Yang made sure to watch them leave, then turned in time to see as Jaune got to his feet. She shook her head. “What the fuck happened?”

“Apparently,” Jaune said as he watched the four leave too. “He’s pissed about you standing him up?”

Yang leaned her head back and groaned. “Seriously?”

“Since when do you like dickheads like him?”

“I don’t? But he just would. Not. Stop.” Yang paused and poked Jaune in the cheek. “Does that hurt?”

“Ow— Slightly.”

She stepped closer and looked at his eye closely. “Hmm.”

“I see you finished your bike,” Jaune said with a chuckle. “Good timing.”

“Your eye looks fine, I think.”

“I think it was mostly my cheek,” he said, acknowledging the annoying throbbing along his cheekbone. She was still looking at his face closely. He could feel her breath on his face. Hair was sticking to her forehead from wearing a helmet in this heat. “What’s with the red contacts?”

“I can’t wear my huge glasses under my helmet visor.”

“But why red?”

“I’m a weeb.” She nodded, then coughed and stepped back. “Yep, you’re stinky. Well…” She gestured to her bike. “Want a ride?”

“Maybe after you explain the rest of whatever the hell Cardin was talking about.”

“He would talk to me every day between classes last year,” she said. “And I kept saying no, no, fuck off, no. I think he just thought I was playing hard to get. Which I was. I was very hard for him to get, but apparently he’s no quitter.”

“And so you eventually agreed to go out with him?”

“No! He walked up to me, handed me a movie ticket, and told me to meet him at the theater at 10pm to see that Jay Hawk movie.”

“The one we went to see?”

“Yep! I took the ticket and brought you instead!”

Jaune blinked. “Well no wonder he thinks we’re dating.”

“He thinks we…? Well no wonder he tried to fight you. He’s an insecure little weirdo.”

Jaune chuckled. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

“I mean, thanks for giving me an excuse to knock the guy’s teeth out.” She looked at her helmet and sighed, pointing at the top. “Left a mark.”

“My condolences to your helmet on its injury,” Jaune said sarcastically, smiling at her.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “I’m sorry that douche hit you. That’s so fucked up, honestly. You didn’t do anything.

“Well, I don’t think he’ll mess with me anymore. He might think my girlfriend will come after him again.”

“I’ll take any chance he gives me,” Yang said honestly. “I just…really hate him. I hope he has that coin slot in the front of his face forever.

“Same.”

She led him over to her newly completed bike. “Well, what do you think?”

“You seriously built this whole thing all on your own,” Jaune said, not really asking, more just expressing his wonder. The bike had a yellow and orange color scheme and chrome accents. It was the coolest thing he had ever seen.

“With a little help from my dad.” She lifted the backseat and pulled a spare helmet from the hidden compartment. She tossed it to Jaune. “Safety first.”

He caught the helmet and laughed. “All that studying paid off then?”

“I taught myself how to build a motorcycle, and then I did,” Yang said with a shrug.

“Just as a fun little project.”

“Yep.”

Jaune would never not envy how smart Yang was. “So humble.” He said with a smile, then put his helmet on. “So, do I just…?”

She climbed onto the bike and started the engine. “Just climb on back.”

“Do I need to, like, hold onto you?” Jaune asked as he awkwardly got onto the bike behind her.

“Sure,” she said, having to yell over the engine. “If you really want to.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, encircling her waist and locking his fingers together in front of her, because he didn’t know where else to put his hands. “How fast does this thing go?”

“Dunno, shall we find out?”

“Uh.”

Yang laughed. “JK, I’m taking things slow with her.”

“Her?”

“Her name’s Bumblebee.”

He patted the side of the bike. “Hi Bumblebee.”

Yang laughed, leaning back and nudging him with her shoulder. “Shall I get you home so you can shower and nap and eat your hamburgers?”

“Yes please.”

“I could join you.”

“You want burgers?”

“No, to shower and nap with you, duh,” she said sarcastically, nudging him again, and making him blush. “We aren’t actually dating, remember?”

“Well, I mean…” Jaune began, muttering softly enough to where he assumed she wouldn’t be able to hear.

Yang giggled and revved the engine. “Off we go!” She took off down the street, accelerating much faster than Jaune expected. He yelped and leaned back, jabbing Yang in the stomach with his locked hands. She shook her head and for some reason, began driving in a serpentine manner, making Jaune wobble side to side. “Just getting you used to it!” She yelled.

“Ahhhh,” Jaune responded in the most respectable way he could.

Yang laughed again and accelerated. He was a bit more ready for it this time. As she got on a busier road and sped up, he couldn't help but laugh. This was awesome! And terrifying!

But if Yang was being truthful about giving him rides every day, he would surely get used to it eventually.

#dragonslayerweek #dragonslayer #rwby #yang xiao long #jaune arc #drabble

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novankenn · 4 months

Text

Unnatural (v2-1)

(Chapter List)

MATURE CONTENT WARNING : This story deals with some disturbing themes. Check the tags. IF any of these are triggers for you or will disturb you... then DO NOT READ!!

Jaune was tired, exhausted would be more accurate. Even with Annabel’s supernatural abilities and constitution, Jaune still need sleep, and now that Terra was spending more and more nights with his mom… sleep was getting harder and harder to come by. Jaune sat at the kitchen table and shot his mom a dirty look as he idly stirred his Pumpkin Pete’s Marshmallow Flakes. Terra had just got into the bathroom, and Saphron was moving into the kitchen for coffee.

“Jaune what was that look for?”

“I’m tired… and you and Terra are the reason for it.”

“Not likely, you’ve just been staying up too late at night playing video games.” Saphron tried to deflect and change the topic at the same time. “And you should have something more than just that garbage. I really don't understand why I keep buying that crap for you.”

“Because you love me, and it says right on the box, 10% of my daily nutritional needs in every bowl.”

“Well, at least have some toast with it.” Saphron commented as she took a seat at the table across from her son.

“Why don't you spend the night at Terra’s place, instead of her always being here?”

“I can’t leave you alone, you’re not old enough, and I’d spend all night worried if someone would get into the apartment and hurt you.”

“Seriously?” Jaune deadpanned. “You really think I need you to protect me?”

“It’s a mother thing.”

“Well, mother. Your… activities are rather loud.” Jaune informed Saphron causing her to choke on her coffee. “Can you either stop, or maybe soundproof your room?”

“What? You can’t be…”

“I know more than any son, let me rephrase that. Then any CHILD should know about their mom and her lover’s… proclivities.” Jaune gave his mom an exhaustion induced angry glare. “Or go to her apartment every once in a while… please?”

“Well, about that… I’ve been meaning to talk to about something.”

“She’s moving in.” Jaune sighed, before rising from his seat, abandoning his breakfast and vanishing into his room, closing the door rather… roughly.

“Jaune?”

“Saph, is everything okay?” Terra asked, poking her head out of the bathroom, her hair dripping water. “I heard a door slam.”

“Jaune guessed what I was going to tell him… he didn’t take it well, at least right now.” Saphron informed her lover.

“Oh! Should we put it on hold? I really don’t want Jaune to be upset…”

“I don't think he’s really upset, more over tired.”

“Is he not sleeping properly? I bet it’s those video games.”

“He says it’s us.”

“Us…” Terra’s face grew bright red once she clued into what Jaune was probably referencing. “Oh, um… ah… what do we do?”

“I’ll let him stay home and get some sleep, and then we’ll talk to him when he’s rested.”

/==/

Terra moved in with Saphron and Jaune a couple of weeks later, and the trio soon fell into the routine of being a family. Terra easily and readily accepted Jaune and began to treat him as her own. It wasn’t like she, even when dating his mom, ever made him feel uncared-for, it was she just upped the amount of affection and care she heaped upon him. It took a little time for Jaune to become acclimatized to Terra actually treating him like her own child, but he did… even if Annabel was constantly teasing him in his head about being the pair’s little baby.

But a couple of months in, Terra popped a couple of questions. One was rather welcome, the second not so much.

“Yes!” Saphron squealed as Terra sank to a single knee and presented Saphron with a small but beautiful diamond engagement ring. Jaune knew it was coming, because Terra had actually taken him aside a couple of weeks ago to ask for his blessing. Which he gave without pause. Terra was good for him mom, and he wanted her to be happy.

“Now I have another, question.” Terra mentioned to the mother and son as they sat in the living room. “I’ve noticing a few things… namely behaviors that seem to happen at least once a month…”

“Um… like what?” Saphron nervously asked.

“Is Jaune a female to male transgender?” Terra asked, and then added, “He is rather feminine looking and once a month you make a point of being the only one to do his laundry, plus there’s the smell…”

“Smell?” Jaune asked.

“Of blood, that I’ve picked up the couple of times I’ve been in your room to vacuum.” Terra offered, “Not that I have anything against it. I love you, Jaune, as much as I love your mom, and I want to support you.”

“Jaune is not transgender.” Saphron spoke up as Jaune in embarrassment bolted for his room and locked himself inside.

#Discretion Advised - MATURE CONTENT #rwby #jaune arc #annabel #anna arc (OC)#saphron cotta arc #terra cortta arc #jaune is saphron's son #demonic possession #disturbing content #warning: implied/referenced incest #warning: implied/referenced rape #warning: implied/referenced child abuse

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saphiraprince22 · 1 year

Text

Empty Bottles & Truthful Words

Author talks: I am so sorry for posting after a million years.

Summary: Azriel had decided to get drunk, and the following morning some truth surfaces.

Warning: Nothing much except for drunk Azriel.

Lots of love, Saph ❤

You and Azriel were best friends and as cliché as it was, you were in love with him and hoped that in some odd scenario, he would love you too. It was supposed to be a normal day, and frankly, it was, but little did you know that when you went to open the door after hearing someone knocking on it, it would turn out to be the best day of your life.

You have known Azriel for nearly 3 centuries and never had you seen him this drunk, and you could most definitely feel the drunken haziness through the mate bond, that you decided to perpetually ignore knowing that the bat-boys would have most probably gone to Rita's to enjoy the weekend.

Yes, Azriel was your mate and he was blissfully unaware of it. The bond clicked a little over 6 months ago when you two were sharing a quiet and peaceful moment at the library and you trying to watch Azriel discreetly when the mate bond clicked and you had to leave the room rather quickly so that he wouldn't have any suspicion, only to be cornered by Rhysand who seemed rather cocky about the same. Now everybody other than Azriel knew about your mate bond.

You made them all swear that they wouldn't say anything as you waited for Azriel to feel the same.

You snapped out of the memories when Azriel let out an excited exclamation of your name which definitely tipped you in about his drunken state.

He quickly left Cassian's side and stumbled towards you and if you hadn't steadied him he would have most definitely fallen down.

Azriel nuzzled your neck and kept mumbling something neither you nor Cassian was able to understand, "I have got it from here, Cass, thank you for getting him here."

You could see that Cassian was worried he left bidding you good night and told you to call him if his brother got a little too much for you to handle, he finally relented and left when you gave him an exasperated look as if you couldn't handle your Illyrian baby.

"Az, come on, let's get you to bed," you mumbled as you tried to get Azriel to your bedroom. "Won't you take me out on a date first ?" he giggled, you would have flushed red if it was any other time, but you merely rolled your eyes as you were too busy to make sure you both did not stumble on your way.

You had successfully managed to seat him on your bed and made your way to your bathroom so that you could find the anti-hangover portion that Azriel had stored for you and ironically he would be the one to use it.

"Y/N, I feel the wind in my hair, do you feel it too?" You huffed out a laugh as you imagined how embarrassed he would be when you would happily remind him about this tomorrow. "Sure, Az, before that why don't you drink some water."

You walked closer to the bed as you tried to coax your mate to drink some water and brush his teeth before you could make him drink the potion, hoping that he wouldn't have a horrible headache tomorrow.

After the herculean task of getting him ready for bed, you had somehow made him drink the portion and you were exhausted, you wondered how he had managed to take care of you when you were drunk and promised to never drink your mind off again.

You wondered what prompted him to get drunk like this and hopefully, you could talk to him tomorrow.

"Do you know why I decided to get drunk today?" You were going to ask why before which he continued, "Because I realized that I love her and that she would never love me."

You had to admit that it hurt, you knew that you had no claim over him but to know that he had gotten this drunk so that he could forget about whoever he was in love with, hurt like hell but you suppressed it.

"Whoever she is Az, she would be lucky to have someone like you love her." "Then why don't you" You snapped your head up to look at him and regretted it immediately as you had never seen the vulnerability reflected in his beautiful hazel eyes. You so desperately wanted to believe his, but you knew he was drunk and you would never take advantage of him like that, and somehow managed to break eye contact.

"It's the alcohol talking Az, you won't remember any of this tomorrow-" "But I will" he insisted, you relented and replied, "Then you can ask me out tomorrow when you are sober, alright." "Will you say yes?" he asked in the most vulnerable tone you had ever heard from the shadow singer. "Without a question" you assured and prayed to the cauldron that he would remember this tomorrow.

Azriel opened his eyes only to close them while cursing at the sun, he was about to turn away when a shadow protected his eyes from the harsh sunlight, he was about to fall back asleep when a soft voice stirred him awake, "Wake up, Azriel" it muttered and he immediately knew where he was and who was taking to him. He grumbled as he had a tremendous headache and was too lazy to wake up.

His best friend, Y/N was giggling as she sluggishly shifted preparing to get up, he quickly grabbed her arm, "Don't go" he murmured wanting to do nothing but sleep.

"Gosh you are an Illyrian baby, aren't you." if it was anyone else Azriel would have scowled, but with her he just couldn't help but laugh along.

She stopped laughing and turned to him, "How do you feel, Az?" she asked and he could see it in her eyes how concerned she was. "I am as healthy as a horse, I wonder who I have to thank for that."

"That would be me and while you are at it make sure you thank Cassian, he was the one who brought your drunk ass to me."

Azriel scoffed as he could already see Cassian make fun of him. "Now why don't you freshen up while I whip up something for the two of us."

Azriel groaned feeling too lazy to get up, he knew that he would eventually have to get back to his duties of being the Spymaster, he could only ever fully relax with his best friend. He avoided mentioning last night's confession thinking that you probably loved him as your best friend.

He got up and went to the wardrobe and saw that you had given his clothes a separate section amongst all your clothes. When he had first seen it he had made fun of you, it assured him that he would always have a place at your house and that melted his heart.

He had finally showered and refreshed, even his shadows were looking more lively, compared to their sluggish movements a little while ago.

He silently made his way to the kitchen to see you make his favorite pancakes. He just stood there leaning against the wall wondering what it would be like to wake up with you, how it would feel when you too would take turns cooking for each other in the morning and during weekends both of you would cook together dancing in the kitchen.

He knew how relaxed you were, he almost felt it, Azriel was confused, his shadow half of which that were playing around you and the other half was swirling around him, that is when he realized that not only did he know you were relaxed and happy, he felt it too. There was a pulsing in his heart, he could feel both of your heartbeats syncing and saw the golden string connecting you to him. His shadows were also swirling around him faster as they whispered the one word he waited to hear, Mate.

You were his mate.

You slowly started rubbing your chest, and he sensed that his confusing emotions were not received with the surprising reaction that he expected, it was almost as if you knew, that was when it clicked, why you had run way months before and almost avoided him for days, and when you finally returned, you never did explain why you had left so abruptly. He understood that you knew, and that was why you disappeared.

He slowly tugged at the bond, you suddenly stilled and this time Azriel tugged at the bond harder and quickly turned around. "Az" you breathed out and that was the only confirmation he needed, "You are my mate," he whispered as he quickly embraced you.

"Are you ok with that?" you whispered softly, you had no idea why you were talking in such a low and sweet voice, it just felt like it was called for.

"With what?" Azriel questioned, he should have been the one asking that question, you should be disgusted for being mated with an Illyrian bastard like himself.

You could feel the insecurity flowing off of him, but instead of replying, you just chose to pour the love you felt for him through the bond as you no longer had to shield or hide your feelings for your mate.

He shuddered at the feeling, when he finally gathered his bearings, he reciprocated the feeling and you both sighed in relief as you had finally found each other. That was when you realized that he wanted you to.

"I want you Azriel, I waited for you to feel the bond too, so I could finally say that I love you."

"I love you too" Azriel muttered as his eyes lined with unshed tears.

You quickly kissed him wondering how starved you were for his affection and Azriel reciprocated it just as eagerly as you softly kissed each other, it was a promise of love and intimacy that you would never lose again. You pulled away and he rested his forehead atop of yours as you both smiled at each other.

This time he was the one that kissed you and it was hot and passionate as he kissed you as if you were water and he was a parched traveler who traveled through the desert to quench his thirst.

As much as you hated it you pulled back and licked your lips, "Let's complete the mating bond first."

Azriel's eyes immediately brightened at that as you dragged both of you to the table as you quickly piled the pancakes he pulled out the plates, and neither of you stumbled as it was a practiced dance.

As you both ate the food, you could feel the bond strengthening, Azriel's eyes were trained on you as you slowly ate your breakfast. You had to wait for 6 months for him to feel the bond, it was only fair that he waited too.

And as soon as you finished, Azriel picked you up to take you to your bedroom, as you laughed heartily, you could only imagine how protective [possessive ;) ] he was going to be.

"We should the others know that they wouldn't be seeing us for the next few days."

"We can do that later, I have more important things to do with you." Azriel purred into your ears and you feel your stomach laden with excitement.

"Well, it's a good thing that you decided to get drunk,"

"It is definitely worth it now." You both laughed at that.

As you reached your bedroom, Azriel muttered, " I intend to treat you like a queen." " As you should shadowsinger."

Taglist:

@aroseinvelaris

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #azris fanfiction #acotar fic

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saphirered · 2 years

Note

Hi Saph! I’m only resubmitting in case my request was one of the ones that got deleted! I’m so sorry if this winds up being a duplicate though, I promise I didn’t mean to. Anyways! I was wondering if you’d do a Don't Leave Me/Snow White kinda thing for the C3 or ExU cast since you did them for the C1 and C2 casts? They were both some stellar pieces of fanfic!

Thank you for resubmitting! I went with the C3 bunch so I hope you like the way it turned out! 😘

(Ashton)

Fuck. Ashton is about ready to go on a path of vengeance and do something incredibly fucking stupid. It’s no secret that when you’re in the line of work he is, and you are you make some enemies and need to watch your back at times. The shitty side of that is that sometimes people way above your head get involved. You’d been hunted. You’d run. You’d done a fucking good job too. But in the end they managed to get you good a few times. A couple of arrows aren’t exactly the greatest when you’re the one being used as a humanoid quiver. Ashtons still doesn’t know how you found your way to their doorstep. You’d collapsed then and there and the crook house was enlisted to fix you up again.

Ashton sat around, plotting, tapping into all his resources and connections to find out who had done this to you. Most came up empty but some got them some good leads. Your condition worsened. Focus had to be on you. Ashton couldn’t rely on anyone else. You’d come to them after all, not anyone else. It’s the bare minimum he could do. He stayed by your side. If people wanted to hurt or kill you they might just come back and you left a trail of blood. You need someone to watch over you while you recover. You’d done it for them a thousand times over, now they get to return the favour.

The silent solitude of a singular never-changing room is not one Ashton copes well with. While the others do come by to check up on the both of you they can’t stay long. These guests do little for Ashton’s sanity and they’re getting antsy. So of course, like any sane person would they start talking to themself.

“It’s not fair. I always thought I’d be the one to end up here within an inch of my fucking life… again. Remind me to never do this again. It sucks and now I kinda know how you feel every time I fuck up bad.” Ashton grumbles setting their hammer down by the side table and taking up the chair, plate of food in hand. He takes the chair at your bedside , legs crossed at the ankles leaning on the bed taking little bites of whatever food Milo handed over.

“Leave it to me to care a little too much. You always say to never mix work and feelings but with someone as likeable as you; that’s fucking impossible.” Ashton grumbles putting the plate on the side table crossing their arms and leaning on the back legs of the chair.

“I say fuck that rule. When you’re back on your feet we’re going to break into the best place we can find and go shopping. Nothing screams love and affection like a good heist.” Ashton laughs to themself. “Or maybe you’d prefer some nice dinner some place fancy?”

“I don’t know about you but both sound pretty neat. It’s a date.” You groan. You hadn’t spoken in days so this response comes as a surprise to Ashton. So much so, Ashton falls backwards from the chair onto the grounds and like a good fellow ruffian you burst out in laughter. The genasi can’t blame you. It’s pretty fucking funny.

————

(Orym)

He wasn’t fast enough. Orym wasn’t fast enough. His entire life spent training to protect the people he cared about and he failed that very task when it mattered most. Orym is no stranger to casualties in battle but he can’t stop blaming himself, can’t stop repeating the hundreds of ways; if he had only done this one thing differently then maybe you would’t be laying on a bed being crowded by the healers attempting to save you.

You couldn’t get out of the way. The creature struck before you could take cover, its claws cutting through your skin like butter. Deep nasty wounds left in its wake started to fester the moment your body hit the ground, poison spreading. The group’s healers were on it, attempting to get you back to your feet and while you had regained consciousness for a brief second that was it. The bleeding stopped but that was the most they could do for you, so with all gold Orym still had, the others chipping in, they brought your body to more advanced healers. Upon arrival they got to work, sending the others away but Orym insisted on staying behind, making sure not to get in the way. He’d be damned if he let you out of his sight.

It didn’t help when the healers shared worried glances. They patched you up, working their magic, bringing ointments, poultices and the likes but the tension in the room was making him sick. Once they were done one of them came over to him, informing him that they’d done all they could. It was up to you now if you’d fight through or pass on into the embrace of the Matron of Death. So like a guardian he’d watch over you, guide you back to this world.

“We haven’t seen much of the world yet like you promised we would. You never break your promises. Don’t start now.” Orym’s fingers lace with yours. It’s so foreign to not feel yours curl into his in response. He tries to smile, even if you can’t see it, but that smile just ends up as a pained frown. Is this what the Voice of the Tempest felt like when she was faced with the loss of her lover? Never has loss felt this real, this deep and if he’s honest he could go without it for the rest of his life.

“Please, just tell me you’re not done yet. I need you here with me. I need you at my side so we can brave this brand new world together. Just-please.” Orym bows, pressing the back of your hand enclosed between his to his forehead in a silent promise, a silent prayer to whoever is watching, you’ll find your way back here. The winds can’t carry you away just yet. He stays like that and listens. Listens to the healers moving about, other patients in the distance, even the city outside. He waits and he listens.

Then… A sharp intake of breath, muscles tensing, that familiar grip responding. Orym looks up and meets your eyes; wide and disoriented until they land on him and calm. You smile, pull your hand still between his towards yourself and grasp back when Orym is about to let go. You turn your enclosed hand and kiss the back of his holding it to your chest, afraid to let go, afraid to slip away on the winds. Your journey isn’t over yet.

————

(Imogen)

Nightmares haunted her sleep and Imogen knew something was wrong. She saw you, at the edge of a storm, your hair and clothes blowing violently in the wind, your eyes pained, tears streaming down your face. You had one hand clutched to your chest while the other stretched out towards her. Imogen got the urge to run towards you. Something about you read as lost and frightened and she wanted nothing more than to make you feel safe and at home. When she reached you, reached for your outstretched hand her fingers passed through, and your shape turned to dust slowly, carried away by the wind. Pain ran through her when she woke up, released from whatever hellscape that dream brought her. But then the feeling didn’t go away…

Imogen couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong so she went to find you. She knew you had stayed up late and since you weren’t back in the room she decided to investigate, that feeling of dread growing heavier and heavier with each step down the hall. And then she found you, sound asleep on the couch. Your face turned to the back of the couch, the blanket you had tossed over yourself, slipping off your shoulders. Imogen expected to be able to breathe again but no. She stepped closer and then she saw it, some reddish-purple energy pulsed through your veins and your form was deadly still, unmoving, unresponsive.

Nothing seemed to wake you. Shaking you didn’t do a damn thing. Calling your name didn’t either. No usual means of waking up a person worked. She’d even thrown a glass of icy cold water in your face but nothing happened. So afraid she might lose you, she also didn’t want to leave your side, so she sat down on the ground, holding your hand, the only tangible proof of life detectible through the pulse at your wrist. At the very least that was a relief.

“Please tell me you’ll be alright. Tell me this is just some freak accident. Please, tell me this isn’t my fault or I might not be able to forgive myself. I need you to wake up for me. I need you here. I can’t do this on my own.” Usually you wouldn’t miss a beat with a response so the quiet that followed was plain torture. Imogen takes a deep shaky breath holding onto your hand tightly as if it’s a lifeline, be that for you slipping away or her reminding herself she’s here, with you, and this is real, however terrible; this is real. She lets the silence take hold, her mind wandering what might have caused this, is causing this and she’s loosing hope.

“Come what may, if you can hear me or not, just know that- that sounds stupid. You probably can’t hear me.” Imogen snorts stopping herself from saying what she was going to, as she rubs her eye, catching the tear she didn’t notice was there. Had she been crying? In a final attempt to get her message to you she tries to connect to your mind. It’s completely foreign when she doesn’t feel the connection take hold fully, yet still there.

‘I love you.’ The words echo through her own mind as much as she tries to send it into yours. Every second feels like an eternity and hope wavers but then something tightens in her grip, slowly. little by little the connection grows stronger. A shaky breath, this time not hers sounds and your eyes open. You look worse for wear but alive. Imogen stifles a gasp as you sit up, your head spinning and throw your arms around her.

“I love you too.” You whisper into her shoulder. Not even you know what happened or why but when you heard the lilac haired girl’s voice in your mind, it had been as much of a lifeline to you as you had been to her keeping the thoughts of others out.

————

(Fearne)

And so it’s once again confirmed that not all fey are as nice as Fearne and her grandmother. The one you got faced with did not take a liking to you, if anything it became a downright feud against you. You’d done nothing wrong. Not necessarily. If anything you’d been on your best behaviour but it wasn’t enough. You were an easy target, someone to be messed with, used as a tool in a bigger ploy and for this fact alone you’d pay the price. Despite what certain individuals may claim, plenty of fey love the theatre; especially the over the top dramatics and this particular fey, wanted you to play the lead role in a tragedy…

Your unmoving body lies beautifully on a bed of flowers, a crown of them braided around your head made from similar ones to Fearne’s. Call it what you want but it is poetic; a crown of poisonous flowers. You are dressed in the finest fashions money can buy, your hands clasped over your abdomen and the expression on your face is a peaceful one. It’s almost like you’re just sleeping. That is what Little Mister seems to think too as the monkey jumps up on the bed and begins pulling at your hands, though they don’t budge, so instead he comes for your hair but still no effect. He even tries to open your eyes but nothing. It’s like you’re in stasis; perfectly preserved. Fearne, at first let Mister run wild in the hopes he’d wake you from your slumber but when that proved futile she did tell him to stop. She can’t blame the monkey for trying but enough’s enough.

Little Mister is quite perceptive when it comes to his momma and sees the sadness you in your state brings her. He knows he can’t cheer her up because he feels very much the same but he does hold her hand as Fearne traces her fingers over your features, as if ingraining them into her memory. Like she is savouring every last one; the way you look, the feel of her fingers against your skin, but more than anything she wanted to see your eyes. They’re always so full of mischief, so alive and when you smile at her, or scold her for stealing, she loves that little half grin when you’re proud of her. She’ll see it again. She will make sure of it.

“I don’t really know what to say. The others said it might help but I don’t know.” Mister pulls her hair. “Anyway, I just want you to know everything will be alright. I am going to make this right. My grandmother always said there’s one thing you should never do when it comes to people where I’m from but for you I will take that risk. I’m going to strike a deal with the one who did this to you. You’ll be back on your feet on no time.” Fearne plays nervously with a lock of her own hair, plucking a flower from it. She kisses the petals before she lays it on your clasped hands. Then she leans in and kisses your forehead gently.

Feeling returns to your fingers, to your body and you’re back from the dreamworld you were stuck in. You feel soft petals against the back of your hand and out of instinct clasp the flower. Then you feel soft lips against your brow. Your eyes open and meet stare back at the faun in front of you. She looks happy. Happy is good.

————

(Fresh Cut Grass)

Fresh Cut Grass never really experienced loss since the incident and even then it’s vague because they only grasped the situation when Ashton found them. It wasn’t as direct. Then came you. You were always so chipper and friendly and simply just a joy to be around for them. You always managed to lighten the mood, especially when people needed it most. Your compassion was admirable and FCG saw you as an inspiration, a beacon in the void, always offering solace to those in need. Always chipper that’s why it came as a surprise when you approached FCG for something to help you sleep better. You’d been suffering terrible nightmares, to the point where you’d wake up screaming. You never told them what those nightmares contained but Letters did catch on you were hiding your exposed skin from anyone who could see right after. Eventually you felt safe enough to confide in the automaton and many nights were spent just talking after you’d wake up screaming once more.

One night Fresh Cut Grass had remained with Ashton, following up on some gambling before dragging the genasi to their room. Along the way he heard your scream but it was cut short. Quickly putting Ashton to bed FCG rushed over to your room. Knocking did nothing and while he didn’t want to intrude, you did state previously they’d always be welcome so with that in mind FCG wheeled in, seeing you seated against the headboard, curled up clutching something to your chest. You didn’t seem to notice him entering. You just stared to the other side of the room. FCG looked to where you were staring at and it was the open window which he ignored the moment he saw the stained red spot growing, dripping onto the sheets. Your hands clutched over the wound had already lost strength but there was barely a breath present still; hope still.

Knowing there’s no time to lose, FCG casts a quick healing spell and while it helps close the wound, there’s something else. Unlike any previous times healing you or your companions, you’d always been right back to yourselves, maybe a bit haggard or tired but never like this. He worries for you. Calling your name doesn’t seem to earn a response. It’s almost like you’re stuck in your own mind; just like the nightmares the two of you talked about for hours on end. FCG knows how completely and utterly terrified you are of those nightmares.

“Everything will be okay. You’ll be back in no time. Now don’t be scared. I’m right here. You’re safe.” FCG goes through all resources at their disposal, casting spell after spell to fix what’s wrong. “You had me scared right there. In the future maybe try and avoid dying because if this is what true sadness and loss feels like, I don’t know if I want to feel that again.” Little by little with each casting of a spell you do improve; colour returns to your cheeks, your eyes focus on movement, and though you stay quiet, eventually you get out of your curled up state and wrap your arms around FCG, holding them tight.

Fresh Cut Grass’ insides feel as if he’s holding another can of coffee or tea again. He wonders if maybe some was left from the last stash he kept for Fearne but then is reminded it’s gone. Analysing what it is, they realise it’s not some warm beverage. This is what it feels like to be wanted, admired, respected, a sense of safety and security. This is what it feels like when you mean the world to someone and that someone does to you. That’s a feeling he can get behind.

————

(Laudna)

This must have been a death Laudna could not turn into something chipper. There were no comment about how absolutely dreadful this passing of a living thing was with her usual attitude. For the first time in a long time the death of another truly hurt her. She’d always been able to let go easily, completely detached from common grief. Death is just part of life but now finally she gets why people aren’t as… well, gloomy and sad when it comes to the passing of a loved one. You hadn’t supposed to meet your end. Not yet. You hadn’t even lived a long and fruitful life. You still had so much ahead of you and Laudna feels sad that what you two had planned, the grand things you talked about wanting to do, you wouldn’t be able to accomplish.

They had brought your body back, to be readied for proper burial. Laudna had taken some moments alone. She’d tied some of the ribbon she uses in her crafts around your wrist; a little reminder of her you hopefully got to take with you into the afterlife. She’d cut a lock of your hair from amidst the strands where it wouldn’t be visible and went to work creating a little puppet of you. She tried to mimic your voice, your behaviour and while in her opinion she got pretty close, it just wasn’t the same. She’d rather have you here than the doll she made.

With these feelings arising, the voice of her patron did too, though Delilah had other intentions, wanted Laudna to hone in on it all, even promised to show her how to bring you back, give some ounce of information, but Laudna also knows that messing with the dead comes at great risk. While she was tempted by the offers her patron made, she wouldn’t put you through that. That being said, she didn’t know how long she’d last. It was only when Laudna started asking questions about how Delilah got this information, the lady backed off for a bit and Laudna could once more take peace in the solitude with you.

“You know, I’d never thought we’d be here like this. I’d always expected you to live some grand life like you always envisioned; one full of adventures. It’s a shame sometimes these things don’t go as they should but all good things come to an end. You were good. I am glad to have met you and I am sad to have to say goodbye.” Laudna adjusts the button of your shirt, straightening it. She combs your hair, even pinches your cheeks like she’d seen you do in the past but no rosiness returns to them, they just stay ashen.

“I guess this is goodbye then. May we meet again some day.” Laudna smiles, rising your hand to her lips and kissing the inside of your wrist; a marker of the life you kept, one she had always been fascinated with; your heartbeat, now lays silent. She lets go and steps out of the room.

When you awakened you gave some poor caretakers the scare of their lifetime. You feel different but can’t quite describe it. There was a lot of shouting but you couldn’t process it. You were laying on some sort of table but your back just hurt and you had to get out. Then the door opened and you’ll have to pride the caretaker for not fainting at the sight of the undead woman in the doorway smiling at you while black goo dripped from her nails. You’re back again. Your life’s not over yet and you’ll be spending it sharing your adventures with Laudna.

————

(Dorian)

People make mistakes all the time. Sometimes these mistakes can be the wrong choice of drink or missing the last step down on some stairs resulting in a face first fall. While he may not have actually fallen down some steps, Dorian wishes to all that is sacred he did because it’d be easier. Instead he’s here seated with your head in his lap, whispering pleas you’ll be alright while he waits for the others to arrive.

Long story short, it’s a stakeout; you and Dorian team up and cover the second floor. The group’d been hired to catch a thief with a tendency to cause chaos. Nothing too serious. So together you patrolled the second floor when he spotted your target. Of course you both gave chase but they were quick. You split up to cover more ground. Dorian had them cornered. No escape now. He failed to notice the muttering of a spell and the green hint of magic gathering at the thief’s fingertips. You did and rushed into the room from the side. In redirecting whatever spell was cast, you took the effects instead. You’d gone down instantly and the thief got away.

If he hadn’t been so stupid to split up, you didn’t have to pull such a stunt. If he wasn’t so stupid he might have noticed and avoided the spell. If he wasn’t so stupid, maybe you’d be here to tell him ‘I told you so’ when you called his plan terrible. You’d agreed to split up only because he suggested it, he convinced you. He should have listened to you. You should have stuck together. But instead here you are, under the effects of some kind of magic. You’ve not moved, nor responded to anything.

“I was reckless. I should have listened to you. I just had to be the hero, didn’t I? What do I get for it? You get hurt. I might as well have been the one to cast the spell.” Dorian speaks to himself. He doesn’t know why he does. Perhaps it’s some nervous coping mechanism o help him process and stay focused. Your wellbeing is his first priority. He’s afraid to move you more than he already has in case it does more harm. Can’t even trust himself not to make everything worse. It’s a downward spiral of negative thoughts and insecurities.

“You’d tell me to suck it up and deal with it.” He laughs shaking his head. “You’d tell me you love me and you forgive me. If I’m honest, I don’t think I could look you in the eye ever again if you can’t forgive me. It’ll take some time to work through but I’d hope to have you at my side still. I hope I’m still deserving of your love.” Dorian brushes your hair away from your face, waiting in solitude, trying to not let his mind wander. A few minutes pass.

Air fills your lungs, like you’ve been holding it all this time and you shoot up from your position. Between ragged breaths you take in your surroundings, until you see Dorian looking rather bewildered but happy no less. You throw your arms around him.

“You already summarised what I was going to say so I won’t bother to repeat the whole thing.” The smile in your voice is enough to ease Dorian’s mind just a bit. “I love you.”

————

(Chetney)

Chetney has a somewhat shady past, things he doesn’t like to talk about. His ‘none of your business’ reply whenever he is asked about more in-depth personal matters usually does the trick and gets people to stop asking about his past. In reality it’s not privacy that keeps him from telling, sure it’s one of the reasons but he doesn’t want people the people he’s growing attached to to view him differently. With you in the picture; the first person he’s gotten close with, truly close with in a very long time, he’s begun thinking you deserve to know. He doesn’t want what you two share to be based on lies and secrets.

He spent weeks working up the courage to come clean about all the evils of his past, weeks and he was going to spill it all. You were sitting in the tavern, together, the others still out and about while you shared a drink conversing. Chetney was enthralled by you, your kindness, your smile, all of you, he almost forgot what he was going to say. You ordered another round. The drinks came in and he directed the conversation to where he needed it to go, slowly ease you into it but before he could continue you began coughing. You gasped for air as if none would fill your lungs. People panicked and jumped to your aid, himself included. You looked so scared, so completely and utterly frightened, begging for help until your head lulled back and your eyes closed. You were still alive but barely.

Knowing he couldn’t fix you, Chetney would personally gut whoever was responsible for this and when he saw that barkeep that served you try and sneak out, he gave chase. He hated leaving you behind but this is the best he could do. It’s needless to say that Chetney is good at what he does and he sniffed out the barkeep. An interrogation and some spillage of red later, Chetney returned. He knew what caused this, he had an antidote. You’d be safe. He had to move quick though. When he returned to the inn they’d brought you back to your room. The real barkeep said the healers had come and stabilised you but a cure would still be a ways out.

You lay in your bed, peacefully. There’s no pain on your face, no fear either and that’s a relief. Chetney jumps up on the bed, sitting on his knees beside you as he takes out the vial.

“You know, I never thought I’d fear losing someone as much as I fear losing you. Everything will be alright. I took care of that bastard. They won’t try that again. You’re safe now.” Chetney says as he brings the vial to your lips, pouring the contents down your throat. In the meantime he sits and waits for the antidote to take effect. It’s a rare feeling but he confidently feels good about watching over you. Sure, you can protect yourself just fine but knowing he was able to truly help you, make difference. He finally understands what you mean. Your eyes blink open and you groan. You focus on Chetney who sits in anticipation.

“Hey, Chetney. You were going to say something? Why are we in my room?” You ask confused but the look of glee on the man’s face distracts you plenty. You’ll get a lengthy explanation and can’t help but feel a little pride in what this woodcarver has done for you.

#critical role x reader #campaign 3 x reader #critical role fanfiction #critrole x reader #ashton greymoore x reader #ashton x reader #dorian storm x reader #orym x reader #imogen x reader #laudna x reader #fearne calloway x reader #fearne x reader

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pitviperofdoom · 2 years

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Life preserver with daemons you say? 👀

Okay so this isn't so much an actual WIP as... well. The thing is, Life Preserver, my existing fic Life Preserver, came very close to being a full on daemons AU. To the point where I actually started writing some beginning scenes with daemons:

Two weeks after the breakup, Rue sprang into his lap and dug her claws in until they pricked his thigh through the denim.

“We can’t keep going like this,” she informed him.

“We’re perfectly fine,” Jon said without looking up. The cursor before him continued to blink, mocking him from the blank page.

“The kitchen’s spotless. You rearranged the utensil drawers three times—any more than that and you’ll start throwing away perfectly good spoons.” Her claws pricked him again, demanding his attention. “Meanwhile that paper’s due in two days and you haven’t started.”

“I’ve passed with worse.”

“Look, we just need a distraction,” Rue went on, trying a different tactic. “Some way to keep busy. That always works, doesn’t it? Keeping busy when we’re upset.”

Jon sighed, abandoning the empty document to press his forehead into both palms. She was right, of course. The nice thing about stress, anxiety, worries, fears, was that when you got right down to it, what they amounted to was excess energy, and excess energy could always be redirected. If exam stress could be funneled into frantic studying, then his current mess could be harnessed and put to good use.

Only…

“Are we really that upset?” he asked out loud.

Rue’s claws retracted, replaced by the gentler press of soft paws. “I miss Saph,” she said quietly. “And I think you know that.”

He did, of course. And he missed Saph, too, as much as he missed Georgie.

...

He was tall, was the first thing Jon noticed. Of course, Jon was sitting down, but even if he were standing, the man in front of him would have towered over him. He didn’t have much size going for him in any other way; his long dark coat slightly wider than his shoulders, and where the sleeves slipped back, his wrists were skinny and sharp. Piercings lined his ears, a barbell glinted in his left eyebrow, and the rest of his face was done up in what looked like two-day-old makeup, smudged eyeliner and all. His nails were inexpertly painted, the polish chipped and peeling.

His daemon was curled up around his shoulders like a scarf, watching him with beady dark eyes. The shape was striking, long-bodied and slender with wide-set ears and a pointed, almost foxlike face. Jon was at a loss to put a name to it. Some kind of marten, perhaps?

So yeah! Jon with Rue the cat daemon, Gerry with Deianira the sable (Nira to everyone but Mary). For a fun little tidbit: in the original His Dark Materials books, the main characters become separated from their daemons when journeying through the Underworld, because their daemons can't follow them into the world of the dead. Inspired by this, I decided that in this AU, being marked by the End has a similar effect. Life Preserver ends with Jon pretty thoroughly marked by the End through Mary, with Gerry already marked after years of being haunted by her, and as a result, by the end their daemons can travel freely from them no matter the distance. Georgie also has this condition thanks to her own encounter, and does her best to hide it.

#ask box meme #safe harbor au #jongerry #tma fic

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dear-ao3 · 11 months

Text

how i met my boyfriend - the designer axe story

as promised, since we have both now graduated the statute of limitations has expired on this story and i can now share it all with you.

some notes: ra is resident assistant and this story occurred in august of 2021. i wrote this all out the day after it happened almost 2 years ago. we did not actually start dating until october 2021 after we both realized we were in love with eachother. yes, we are still together as of may 2023.

without any further ados, the much anticipated designer axe story.

so part of RA training is that we have to make door decorations and bulletin boards for our halls and buildings. i had finished my door decks at 1 am sunday morning and the bulletin boards weren't due until 9 am monday morning. so i had all of sunday to work on it.

my building has no less than seven bulletin boards per floor and an additional 4 on the entrance floor. i dont know who the hell built this building but we need to have a serious talk about when too many bulletin boards is too many fucking bulletin boards.

so i was in charge of three on my floor. one about me, one covid policies and one sloth (his name is sam and i love him). and i am a chronic procrastinator. so i finished my about me and got through about 95% of my covid one by like 9pm and had to go back to the res life office to cut out a few more letters and get some scrapbook paper.

at this point its probably important to know that the only people on campus at this point were the RAs, some students getting mentoring training, and a few random first years here for an early arrival program. plus some staff.

now, i need you all to understand that there are 42 RAs. all of us have the same deadline. all of us had between 2 and 5 bulletin boards to complete. plus door decks. and room condition reports. so we were all moving at literally 600 frames per second, 120 miles per hour, or about as fast as a child does when they are told there's cake.

which is to say, we were all frazzled and stressed out of our minds.

so i open the door to the res life office at around 9 pm to cut out the word "but" in orange construction paper and grab 2 sheets of purple scrapbooking paper. in the office are the four RAs that were on duty that night, plus a good 7 other people are running around asking about glue sticks and construction paper and keys.

i knew that i only had my sloth board left to complete so i decided to take my sweet ass time, knowing that i was in need of a good break (and also im just a procrastinator) so i cut my letters and grabbed my paper and stood at the desk for no less than an hour talking to everyone about things like the fact that i fell out of a suitcase when i was 2 and that tamper proof lids exist because of the chicago poison pill murders and the flagship l.l. bean store in maine. it was very productive.

so i finally slink back to my dorm at around 10pm, very confident that i would finish by midnight and could watch some netflix or something before i went to bed. if only i knew what was in store for me.

i enter my dorm building and walk to the elevators. and then. one of the RAs from the third floor was like "oh saph. [another RA in the building] is looking for you."

and me, of course, didnt bring my phone to the res life office so i didnt know this.

i go up to the second floor and see one of the RAs from the second floor and another from one of the other buildings working on a bulletin board. they say "oh saph. [the same RA in the building] is looking for you."

i run up to my dorm and discover that somehow we missed the bulletin board by the downstairs elevator. seriously there's too fucking many bulletin boards. and they were asking me to do it. because they wanted to put covid policies on it.

and i know i said this story was about axe body spray. and it is. we are getting there.

so panic sets in because its 10pm and i still have two whole bulletin boards to make now. one of which i have nothing planned for. so i threw some soup in the microwave (because i had forgotten that dinner existed) and opened my laptop.

thankfully, i could reuse some of the same stuff from my own covid policies board in my common room. i just had to print it. which meant, yep you guessed it, another trip back to the res life office!!

at this point i think i had taken a grand total of at least 7 trips to the res life office that day alone. its a good 5 minute walk. not terrible, but just annoying enough that you hate yourself a little more every time that you have to do it. and now its 10:30pm. i am starving. i have two boards to complete. it was crunch time.

i make it to the office and this time i had no time to sit around and debate how popular l.l. bean is. i had policies to print and letters to cut.

as im struggling with the printer (because those fucking things can smell fear), someone else in the office starts loudly discussing timothee chalamet.

and now, this is where you want to actually pay attention because this man would be the reason i ended up only getting 4.5 hours of sleep.

said man in question is quite the character. he's in my grade and im pretty sure he's a polisci major (and maybe creative writing? there's some kind of writing) and he plays lacrosse. i dont really know how to describe him other than the fact that the first interaction i ever had with him was two years ago at freshman orientation when he complained to me in the dining hall that there was no milk for his protein powder.

that interaction is in my top 10 favorite interactions ive had in college.

but the one we are about to unpack definitely takes all of the cake.

so here i am, struggling with the printer and my tiny knock off dongle. the other RA on my floor starts discussing timothee chalamet's outfits with the protein powder RA.

and so apparently the protein powder RA worked in some major fashion designer brand corporate something or other thing over the pandemic. he told me which one but i was so shot and only thinking in construction paper and glue and staples that i didnt process any of it. but it was a fancy one. the store that is.

and so here's what happened:

me: "timothee chalamet? isn't he like, 17?"

protein powder RA and the other RA on my floor: "nah he's like 25. ive checked."

yet another RA: "yeah i just googled it."

me, a wimbo: "oh im thinking of finn wolfhard. but i dont think he's 17 either."

listen before you slam me, remember it is like 11pm and i have to still do 2 bulletin boards and we have training at 9am the next morning.

so protein powder RA pulls up some photo of timothee chalamet and starts telling me about all the brands he's wearing and i literally said "i understand all of the words that you're saying separately."

and he said "exactly!! he's just so great that when you put it all together you can't understand it!! he's just too perfect!!"

and the i made a detrimental decision.

there is life before this decision and life after.

i said "well. bring your fashion designer knowledge into the lounge and help me decide what color to cut my letters."

and he said okay.

so after severely debating the different color purples that we had and listening to the finer points of the fashion industry, i noticed something important.

he smelled like axe body spray.

see i bet you thought i forgot the point of the story. i did not.

let it be known that we are juniors in college (that's 20-21 years old if you dont know). axe is very common in middle and high school boys locker rooms. i have vivid memories of avoiding that hallway so i wouldn't be choked.

so im trying not to inhale too deeply because the smell has permeated my mask as i cut my "covid safety" letters in the color this man has dubbed "light lilac" and half listening to him talk about the fashion industry.

but i finish quickly, somehow escape the smell of axe, and grab my laptop and print outs before tagging along with the same protein powder RA and the other lax player RA back to the dorms. its now 11:15 pm. i still have 2 bulletin boards to complete. my soup is sitting in my microwave in my dorm, almost forgotten about.

halfway back from the office i realize that i forgot my dongle. i say so out loud and protein power RA says that he will go back and look because he's just that guy who likes to help. i say okay fine. and i sprint to my dorm building, drop the print outs and letters downstairs for later, and start the sloth board.

several minutes later, my soup has been inhaled, my papers glued, a sloth cut out, and im sitting in a mess of construction paper and staples in the hallway when i get a text from protein powder RA that quite simply said:

"its not there. do you need help with your boards?"

and me, being me, because i am exhausted and in need of company, say "yeah sure."

by the time he finally shows up, he's changed his outfit.

as a side note, every time ive seen this man during the last 5 days of training, he's been wearing a different outfit. oh and he works for lulu lemon. forgot to mention that.

but alas, here he came, holding my papers and reeking of axe as he walked down the hall to me, who is failing to staple a sloth to my bulletin board.

so for the next two hours i did my boards and he sat and talked. he wasn't physically helping me, but he was helping me stay awake, cause this man is a ball of fucking energy, and that was very important.

i only remember about half of what he said but essentially he was talking about how he was trying to be a better person than the one that he was freshman year. which is admirable. but he does still reek of axe.

at around 1 am i finished my last board and went upstairs to clean up. he came with me and sat on the floor and continued to talk while i cleaned up my disaster of paper and staples and glue among other things. at this point i was so relieved that i had finished that i was actually able to engage in the conversation, which was surprisingly deep and interesting.

and then. its about 1:45 am. i am about to wash my dishes so i can shower and go to bed. because remember that i need to be at training at 9 am the next morning.

and he says something about trying to be a better person again. and me, in all my sleep deprived glory, says:

drum roll

"and yet you still wear axe body spray."

and all hell broke loose.

i would like to preface by saying that he freaked out in a very joking matter and was not actually mad at me. but he was definitely disappointed and in shock. the next hour pretty much consisted of:

"are you kidding me? this is prada something something cologne and all these celebrities wear it!! how dare- it could not POSSIBLY SMELL LIKE AXE!!! well i guess its a little dry and axe is kind of dry smelling...bUT I SPENT SO MUCH ON THIS BOTTLE and the lady sold me on the larger one and it was like 150 bucks and UGH i cannot smell like axe! you know i got four compliments on how i smelled today??! and you're telling me i smell like fucking- *sniffs shirt* no! there's no way!! well i mean... no i cannot. i cannot smell like designer axe. damnit saph! im gonna have to sell this whole bottle now cause i can't use it! BUT ITS PRADA!!"

for an hour.

but it was very entertaining.

eventually i dragged him to the common room cause i needed to do my dishes and sleep and he continued ranting about it there, going as far as to call his best friend (who was asleep) and another RA and ask them if he smelled like axe. i meanwhile was laughing my ass off and 12 kinds of tired but couldn't find it in myself to care.

eventually he decided he needed yet another opinion. so he went to find the other RA on my floor, which, if you remember, is the same one who was thirsting over timothee chalamet with him in the res life office all of those fateful hours before. but that RA was nowhere to be found. so he ran down to the common room below us and scared the shit out of three freshmen.

and he asked these freshmen if he smelled like axe.

the answer was yes.

after that he left because it was 2:30 in the morning, and all the while he was yelling about how he was going to come to training tomorrow with different shirts with all his different colognes on them and have me sniff them because he couldn't smell like designer axe.

and i did the only logical thing. went upstairs to my my dorm and made him a door deck that looked like a bottle of axe that had a post it on the front that said "designer."

and so. now you all know not to buy cologne because its expensive because there's a good chance it will just end up smelling like axe.

and i didn't get to smell his other colognes because i almost passed out in training and left to take a nap. but maybe that was a blessing in disguise.

we’ve been dating for a year and seven months and just graduated college :) and in a fun twist of events, prada no longer makes that cologne anymore.

#not a tag #from saph #designer axe #saph and brad origin #bless

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howlingday · 1 year

Note

Accidently villainous AU. Jaune was told Roman was capable of supplying him with the best fake transcript to get him into beacon so he meets the gentleman theif...at the worst possible time. As huntsman storm the building he was told to meet Roman in they mistake him for an accomplice and order everyone to surrender since both him and Roman are outnumbered and only one of them has aura (much to Roman's annoyance) so he unlocks his aura so he can at least fight back since they already think he's an accomplice of Roman he's already in trouble. Jaune fights unlocks both his aura and semblance as he's panicking over trying to not getting arrested but too not show how scared he is he puts on a bravado

Rain battered down in light spatters at the sound end of Vale. Saphron put her car in park, but the engine still rumbled with life. She turned to Jaune with a smile.

"Alright, here we are." She declared. "Are you ready?"

"Uh, y-yeah, I guess." Jaune meekly replied. Saph groaned.

"Come on, you're going off on an adventure like that?" She slapped his shoulder, making him flinch. "Show some spine, baby brother! Like Dad says, girls love confidence."

"R-Right." He took a deep breath and slapped his face with light, but rapid pats from his hands. He then exhaled like a bull ready to charge. "I'm ready!"

"Alright!" She hand him his umbrella. "Don't forget your Pumpkin Pete poncho~."

"Thanks, Saph." He smiled, oblivious to the mocking tone she gave. He quickly put on the old poncho, a few threads snapping loose as he did. He'd have to stitch it up again later. "I'll be back in an hour."

"I'll be back in an hour." Saph corrected. "You will be back whenever you're done." He climbed out of the car.

"Oh, and Jaune?" He turned. "Be safe." He nodded, and shut the door.

As she drove away, Jaune looked to the imposing brick building before him. The windows were above street level, and the door looked like it was solid steel. He couldn't even see a door handle. He looked to the side and saw a little black button. With a press, it buzzed like an old and angry bumblebee.

A hatch on the door opened inward, and Jaune saw golden eyes glare at him. He gulped as they appraised him, looking up and down like they were judging a slab of meat.

"Password." They grunted.

"The password?" Jaune repeated. He didn't remember any password. The scroll message he got was to a burner scroll and it didn't say anything about a password. His stomach did twists and knots as the eyes continued to glare at him. This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea.

"Wipe your feet, little bunny." The voice said as the hatch came shut. The door screeched as it came open, then swung silently in like a ghost. He stepped inside, scraping his boots against the doormat.

Once in, the door came shut behind him, and he saw a tall, lanky woman in a red dress with green vines as accents, drawing attention to her curves. She tossed her long, oil black hair over her shoulder and pointed a yellow taloned finger past him.

"Down the hallway." She say, her voice sweet, yet dangerous. "Mr. Roman should be down there."

Jaune nodded and began his walk down the dark hall. Thunder crashed outside, making him jump. He hastened his trek until he arrived at the end, where crates and boxes lined the walls.

In the center, was a man looking over maps, charts, and blueprints on a long table. He puffed on a cigar, the smoke rising and billowing around his bowler hat, his emerald eyes gleaming at the paper.

"Um, excuse me?" Jaune meekly murmured. The din of men hauling crates, shouting directions, and raucous laughter from the open door of the nearby breakroom drowned out Jaune's attempt to reach his goal.

"Excuse me?" He said a little louder. The crew continued their routine of clamor. The man in the bowler puffed his cigar, his eyes never leaving the paper beneath him.

"HEY!" Jaune barked, and the whole building stopped. All eyes were on the young man in his Pumpkin Pete poncho. Swallowing what he hoped was fear caught in his throat, he spoke. "Uh, I-I'm here to see Mr. Torchwick?"

The man in the bowler looked to his wristwatch, then slapped his forehead. With a grumble, he patted a man next to him on the shoulder. He then approached Jaune with a smile on his face.

"Sorry about the delay, kid," he said, breath reeking of cigar, "I was caught up in some other business." With a hand on Jaune's shoulder, he guided the young man to the break room.

Inside, a small group of men looked up from their card game, an old TV set playing in the corner. Once the man in the bowler waved them off, then returned to their game. A door further in led to a small office, where a small desk and and two chairs sat. The man took his seat behind the desk, leaving the other open for Jaune.

As he put his hand on the back, he noticed it was stained with a dark rust.

"Let's see here." The man opened a drawer on the side and rifled through the inside. "Ah, here we are. Arc." He pulled up a folder with Jaune's name on it and slid it across the desk. "Transcripts for Beacon application, right?"

"Yes, sir." Jaune nodded.

"Please, call me Roman." Roman said. "Not a lot of people would sneak into a huntsman academy without a reason. Mind if I ak what's yours?"

Jaune could have told him the honst truth. That he was making an attempt at becoming something his family could be proud of. But he doubted he would get the transcripts if came clean with a sappy answer like that. So he decided to be vague.

"There's something I want at Beacon." Roman raised a brow. "Something very important to me, and I need to get it. If I can't, then bad things will happen that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy."

Roman nodded at the explanation. He respected Jaune's drive. That put him in good with his benefactor. True, the "something important" was plain and simple respect, and the "wouldn't wish on my wosrt enemy" was a bit melodramatic (especially when considered he never had an enemy). But the results spoke for themselves. Jaune took the transcript folder in hand and smiled.

"Thank you, Roman." He nodded as he stood up.

"Hey, no problem," he waved off, "you payed in advance, so I know you're decent enough to get in." He chuckled. "And hey, if you need work, you just let your old friend help you out. Just ask for-"

"ROMAN TORCHWICK!" A voice blared from outside. "THIS IS THE VALE POLICE DEPARTMENT! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!"

Suddenly, the door swung open as a young man pointed his crossbow at Roman. He was wearing a black poncho with red stripes, and his olive greeb hair was gelled to a point in the front, looking similar to a horn.

"Don't move, Torchwick!" The bold voice said. "You're under arrest for crimes against Vale!"

"Um, c-can I go?" The two poncho'd figures met eye to eye, blue to green, and Jaune held up his hand. "Uh, I was just trying to sell this chair." He cautiously stood up, finding no resistance from the figure. "I, uh, sell decorative chairs for offices."

The figure nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense." His green eyes focused on Roman again. "No doubt he was trying to scam you out of your hard-earned lien." Jaune took the chair, moving out of sight towards the door.

Jaune was about to open the door, when he looked back to Roman. He looked so helpless. Well, as helpless as a shady businessman could get. Finding pity for him, and the chair still in his hands, Jaune slowly shut the chair on itself, surprisingly unrusty, contrary to the brown stain of it. Setting it on the ground, he lifted it high into the air.

With a whoosh and a crack, the figure fell foward in a daze. Roman kicked the desk forward, sending it into the crossbow huy, and causing him to fall onto his back. With another swing, Jaune struck the prone aggressor.

"FOOOOOOOL!" Jaune roared, unaware why. "You let your guard down at the worst possible moment, and I took advantage of it!" Green eyes looked up in horror, and the attacker swung his crossbow up, only to be beaten down by Jaune once more. "FOOL! Accept your defeat with dignity!"

"Y-Yes, sir!" The huntsman covers his head as he curls into a ball. "I'm sorry, sir! It won't happen again, sir!"

"Nice work, kid." Roman chuckled. "Come on, let's get you outta here."

Roman led Jaune to the break room, where most of the furniture, save the TV, was turned over on it's side. Under the card table was an open hatch. Roman groaned as he descended. Jaune soon followed him down, where he met a girl smaller than he was, pointing a thin sword for his throat.

"Easy, Neo." Roman said. "He's one of us."

"Neo" nodded and sheathed her sword. She then turned on her heel to join up with Roman. Jaune looked up to the open hatch. If the police followed them, he would be caught, and his dream would be dead before it could live. He looked to his left and saw a storm drain flow wildly through rusty bars, gushing away to unknown darkness. Taking off his poncho, he tore the already worn hood free, and tossed the rest, where it caught on the bars. The worn face of Pumpkin Pete seemed to give a sad smile as Jaune turned away to return to his newfound friends.

"Did we lose anybody?" Roman asked, looking around. He spotted Jaune and raised his arms. "Nice of you to join us, kid! Thought the cops would have gotten you at this point."

"Not a chance." Jaune gave a face of false bravado. "Just gave the cops the wrong rabbit trail."

"Well, if it gives us enough time to escape, I'll believe you." Roman turned towards the exit. "Everyone, meet back at loading dock B three days from now. Any questions?"

"Just one." A man in a blue trenchcoat fell from the ceiling, taking out two of Roman's men. "What size cuffs do you wear?"

More of Roman's people charged him, but he took them down, one by one. This huntsman wasn't like the one before. He willingly revealed himself to a room of armed men and was more than ready to take them all on, unarmed. His very essence oozed seemed to confidence. Jaune kind of wished he was taken under his wing, but he couldn't abandon Roman.

Not after everything he'd done for him.

"Nice entrance." Roman puffed on a newly lit cigar. "Now let's see what you can really do." He looked to the short girl. "Neo?"

She nodded, jumping into the fray herself. She opened her parasol to land softly behind him. With an open palm, he struck against the fabric of her open web, sending her back a few inches. He reached down and retrieved a pair of batons, then flicked them out to reveal barbed blades on the end.

Roman fired a flare, but missed when the huntsman ducked, his arms spread. With a click, the barbs shot out, making the duo jump to avoid the shot. Another click stopped the blades short, and the huntsman twirled around, scuffing Roman's cane and wrapping around Neo's leg in mid-air. With a click, the barbed heads returned, cutting Neo's leg and sending her in a spin. The huntsman closed the gap and struck her down hard to the concrete floor.

Jaune wasn't sure what to do. This was a real huntsman, nothing like the one he easily defeated with a bold-faced lie and a chair to the back. But with his boot on Neo's arm, Jaune knew he had to do something. But all he had was his boyish charm and cute face, and he had a feeling those wouldn't do much to help him. The only thing in his hands was his forged transcript and his poncho hood.

"You huntsmen can be such a pain, you know that?" Roman twirled his cane. The huntsman spared a glance, but maintained his heel on Neo's back. Roman flipped his cane, firing a grappling hook at the man. "Hey, if you're gonna acknowledge someone, you should do it face to face!"

The huntsman ducked, pressing his foot deeper into Neo. She clenched the stones in pain, as the overbearing weight came down on her spine. Roman retracted the hook, but found his hook snagged on the huntsma's grip, and was sailing towards his opponent. He braced for worst, clenching his teeth.

A swing from a red blade came down on the huntsman's other arm, forcing him to leap away at the surprise attack. Neo grunted and heaved a breath. Roman was close enough to the surprised do-gooder, and could yank his cane hook free. They all turned their eyes on the new figure in the room.

Standing in a Pumpkin Pete hoodie, scuffed and dirty jeans, and a rubber, water-proof, bunny-earred mask that covered most of his face, Jaune felt like a new man. With a wave of his hand, he commanded the attention of everyone in the room, even the stirring henchmen who began to find their feet. With a single word, he became the true center of attention.

"FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!" Jaune bellowed, his mask torn to allow speech. "You thought you could best me and my allies in such a paltry game of fisticuffs?!" Jaune squeezed his grip on the sword's handle. "You truly believed you could topple the might of the Bad Hare Gang?!"

"I don't know what is going on, but I love the theatrics." Roman mumbled. "A bit much, but who am I to judge?"

Neo rolled her eyes at this goofball. Whoever told him that masked villains were chíc clearly wasn't aware of how reality worked. But he did get her free, so she owed him that much.

"Bad Hare Gang?" The huntsman repeated. "From that Pumpkin Pete cartoon?"

Jaune kept his malicious grin of confidence, but felt as if his body cracked under the slightest criticism he recieved. But he began remembering his father's words; sometimes all you really need is confidence, and Jaune wasn't going to lose what new confidence he found. Not so easily, anyway.

"You fool!" He roared. "Our crimes inspired the children's TV show, on in the 7-9 Vale timeslot, on Mondays and Wednesdays that aren't holidays!"

"Whatever." The huntsman growled. "I'll just take you in, too-"

A stray shot stomped him where he stood. A goon holding a gun retightened his grip. The huntsman glared, but was shot again from his other side. The thugs joined in the chorus, unloading everything they had into the huntsman. He bolted through the crowd and escaped to the rafters with his grappling hook.

"Okay, he's gone." Roman said. "Now get out of here before you get hurt, kid."

"Uh, sure," Jaune replied, loosing his grip on his confidence so easily now, "but where-?"

"Head down the tunnel until you reach the second sewer hatch." Roman pointed down the corridor. "We'll climb out the first and keep 'em busy. Now get going."

Not needing a second word, Jaune stuffed his bunny hood into his hoodie pouch and ran for the exit. He passed the first hatch and found the second one not far after that. Cautiously, he opened the hatch.

No police or scary huntsmen nearby. He climbed out, and pulled out his scroll. He messaged Saph to pick him up at his new location.

"How'd you end up there?" She asked.

"Uh..." Jaune droned out before answering with a half-truth. "They were in the middle of an errand, so I had to join them whole they escaped work. They're gone now."

"On my way now." She replied. "How'd it go?"

Jaune reached into his hoodie. By some miracle, the folder and everything in it remained in place. He let out a heavy sigh, and a smile grew wide over his face.

"Well, I got the transcripts."

#rwby #rwby au #accidental villain jaune au #jaune arc #saphron arc #roman torchwick

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

PROVE ME WRONG

Prompt: Requested by my sister from another mister @ziasaph I hope I made you proud, babe 😉

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Reader (ft. A flirtatious Damien Priest)

Warnings: +18, smut, angst, power play, brat taming, cursing, fingering, blood, jealousy

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @wickedsunfire @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @auawdo , @lustyromantic , @yungbludjazz360 , @babydee17 , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Notes: *places suitcase down on the floor* Ah, it feels good to be home (aka Roman Reings) 😂 If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

“Are you looking for someone?” A male voice asked from behind me

I turned around to find Damien Priest staring at me

“Oh no, but thanks for asking” I smiled

“Are you waiting for somebody?” He asked

“Not really” I tilted my head to the side

I wasn’t waiting per say - since Roman didn’t know I was here, it was more of a surprise visit. We hadn’t been able to see each other in two months and I couldn’t stand the distance anymore.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No” I answered and he smiled widely as he scooted closer “But I do have a husband” I laughed

“You’re mean” He joked “But so gorgeous”

“My husband thinks so too”

“He’s a very lucky man” He said, as he leaned into the wall in front of me

“And who’s the lucky gal?” I asked

“I was hoping it would be you” He smirked

“That was smooth” I chuckled “Nice try, though”

“What is it, huh? I’m not your type?” He teased

“You’re a very handsome man. So I’m afraid your looks aren’t the problem” I giggled

“So what is it?” He asked

“She’s taken, that’s the problem” Roman spoke from behind him

“Hi, Ro-“ I began

“What are you doing here?” He spat

“I wanted to see you-“

“Couldn’t you have called first, to let me know you were coming?” He asked abruptly

“Hey man, you don’t need to talk to her like that”

“And who the fuck do you think you are to tell me how am I supposed to talk to my wife?” He stared at Damien “Oh yeah, you were signing up for the lovely ‘new husband’ post a few minutes ago, right?” He smiled coldly

“Keep your fucking dick away from my wife, if you want to keep your manhood intact” Roman pulled me by my arm and made me walk in front of him

“Go to the parking lot” He said

“But the locker rooms are over there” I pointed to my left

“Are you deaf? I said go to the fucking parking lot, Sapphire” He almost screamed

“You better watch your tone with me, Roman-“

“YOU better shut your fucking mouth, go to the parking lot and wait for me there because I’ve had enough of you and Priest for today” He snarled and stormed off

He didn’t utter a single word the entire trip back to the hotel, not even in the elevator

It was only when we were inside the bedroom that he finally said something

“Do you wanna split up?”

“What?” I asked, confused

“Do you want the divorce? Do you want to be single again? Do you want to move on with your life?”

“Of course not! Why would I-“

“Then what was that little flirting scene with Damien back at the arena, huh?”

“Roman, I wasn’t flirting with anyone”

“You’re a very handsome man. So I’m afraid your looks aren't the problem” He mocked me “If that wasn’t flirting, then what is it Sapphire? Please, enlighten me” He stated bitterly

“He asked if I was looking for someone, then he flirted a bit, I told him I was married, he still tried his luck and asked if he ‘wasn’t my type’ I said he was a handsome guy and end of story! There was nothing else”

“Do I really look that dumb to you?” Roman laughed hysterically

“I’m telling the truth!” I answered, completely in disbelief by his lack of trust

“And that was it?” He asked, drying up his tears of laughter

“Of course that was fucking it!” I crossed my arms in front of my chest “What the fuck did you think happened?”

“Do you expect me to believe that nothing happened?” He asked, cynically

“What are you implying? That I fucked him in some dark hallway?”

“Or maybe it was in some empty locker room” Roman tilted his head to the side

“Fuck you!” I spat “I drove eight hours today just to see you, because I miss you! And when I get here I’m kicked to the curb like a sick dying dog? I don’t need this bullshit!” I made my way towards the door but Roman grabbed me by the arm

“I’m not done talking to you”

“But I am!” I tried to pull my arm away from his grip, but he didn’t let go “Let me go”

“No” He said, nonchalantly

“Roman, I’m serious, let.me.go”

“You’re gonna pull out some attitude with me now? Cute” He smiled

“I’m not playing, Roman. I don’t want to talk to you right now” I huffed

He pulled me towards the bed, and shoved me on it. When I tried to stand up and leave, he pushed me down again.

“We can do this all night if you want to” He said, when I tried to leave again

“Fuck off!” I snarled

Roman quickly pulled me by my ankles towards him and straddled my hips, holding my wrists down on the mattress and placing them by the side of my head.

“Sharp tongue today, huh?” He sucked my on bottom lip “I can fix that”

“Screw you!” I screamed

Roman growled and secured my wrists on top of my head with one hand, while the other squeezed my neck

“You’re going down a very dangerous path, baby” He squeezed harder “So you might want to be a little bit wiser with your choice of words”

“How fucking dare you doubt me?” I tried to release myself from his grip “Doubt my fidelity” My knees tried to hit him “Doubt my love and respect for you”

Roman released my wrists and went back to sitting down

“You fucker” I use this new freedom to hit his torso “Get off of me! I want to go back to my house, grab my stuff and leave you alone”

“You won’t do that” He calmly said, as I continued to hit him

“Yes I will! And don’t you worry, when you come back from the road, you will have the house all to yourself! So feel free to bring one of the many road whores with you!”

Roman chuckled “Why would I bring a whore from the road when I already have one waiting for me back home?”

When my attack against him was getting weak from tiredness, he secured my wrists on top of my head once again

“Aren’t you, Saph? My good little whore, so filthy, and all for me” He leaned down and kissed my lips roughly and I took the opportunity to bite his lip harshly, until I felt the taste of blood on my tongue

“Oh, my feisty little bitch!” He smiled at me, with blood staining his teeth “I missed you so fucking much”

Dipping his free hand inside my pants, Roman didn’t waste any time and slid two fingers in me

“My dirty girl is so fucking wet” He began to wiggle his fingers inside of me “You drive me crazy” He growled, biting the top of my breasts through my shirt

“Fuck me, fuck me right now!” I moaned

Roman removed his hand from my pants and shared the juices on his finger between my tongue and his, right after kissing me aggressively as he yanked my pants down, followed by his own.

Holding his length by the base, he slid it in between my folds and teased my clit with his cock’s head

“You want it? Beg for it!”

“Please fuck me, daddy! Destroy me, use me, ruin me, please?”

“That’s more like it” He grinned, before harshly entering me

“Got even tighter without daddy, baby?” He moaned, pounding forcefully “Don’t worry, I’ll fix that for you” He smiled, grabbing my hips and thrusting himself deeper and harder into me

When I was reaching my orgasm, he stopped his actions, which made me look at him confused

“You thought it would be that easy?” He laughed, turning me onto my stomach “No, baby” He slid in me again “I’m very far from being done with you” Roman pulled my hair back, until I was staring at him “You’ll take what I will give you like a good girl”

When I opened my mouth to talk back, he said

“And remember: bad girls don’t get to cum” He chuckled when I kept my mouth shut

And so he began a level of torture that would last all night long...

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wwe one shot #wwe superstars #masochist writes

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thedistrictsleepsalonetonight · 3 years

Text

Cupid is stupid (Or Weiss asks a lot of questions and finds love in all the softer places)

Falling in love, Weiss discovers, rather inconveniently in the middle of a fight, is a lot like wielding a weapon.

There’s the push and the pull, the drawing blood and taking of it. Weiss is rather inclined to think of it as a violent, bloody dance — the way she’s almost constantly tripping over her own feet trying to follow her partner when she has no idea what her next move will be. Then, of course, there’s the fact that whoever she’s dancing with is equally as clumsy as she happens to be, which Ruby definitely is.

“Thank me later,” she quips, after she’s done saving the idiot’s ass for the millionth time in her life. And then it hits her right in the chest, not a Grimm’s blow, not a weapon, and worse that Cinder’s fiery spear that had impaled her a couple days ago — this is affection. Not the kind she feels for Yang or Blake or any of their other friends, it’s the kind that turns her inside out whenever she so much as sees a malevolent force heading towards Ruby. The kind that automatically reaches out to touch Ruby when she’s near, that draws her eyes, unbidden to search her out in a fight.

Ruby catches her a while later, holding onto her hand as she hangs off a moving train, and Weiss can do nothing other than blink back at her — at her bright eyes, and her hair whipping around in the wind. She then proceeds to whisk them both to between two train carriages, in a flurry of red. When Weiss tries to step away, to catch her breath, she finds she’s stuck to the ground, or more accurately, entangled with Ruby. They’ve got their arms wrapped tight around each other, and with every movement, strands of Ruby’s hair land onto her face. Weiss doesn’t know it then, but all of her molecules have indeed just been rearranged. She has a feeling that stupid thing in her chest has been put back together to form Ruby’s name instead.

*****

It’s almost offensive how easily she feels the cold when she’s supposed to be the Ice-Queen. Yang would say something stupid about her not having a thick skin because she grew up in the literal lap of luxury (and she would be right, but that’s beside the point) and Blake would probably punch her in her arm, but thankfully, nobody’s noticed yet. So she stands in the corner of the porch, looking out at the rapidly falling snow outside the creepy house.

“You’re cold,” Ruby murmurs when she sidles up to her.

Of course. Of course Ruby sees. “Everyone’s cold,” Weiss says back.

Ruby shrugs, gently reaches for her hands, her eyes on Weiss’ the entire time. Is this okay, she seems to be asking, and Weiss, helpless, can only nod.

Ruby covers Weiss’ hands with her own, raises it to her face and like it’s a secret, breathes warm air into their cupped palms. She’s no longer looking right at Weiss, instead focusing her attention onto their hands, and Weiss, like any other time she’s lucky enough to get to stare at Ruby freely, takes this opportunity to do so. The cold in her bones has instead been replaced with warmth — Ruby warmth, the particular shade that she can only find around Ruby — and even the tremendous crash of Qrow and Jaune breaking down the door registers to her as though coming from far, far away.

Ruby blows one last gust of warm air into their hands before they make their way inside. She doesn’t let go, though. Weiss realizes she didn’t want her to, anyways.

*****

There are around ten people in the house besides the three people who actually live there, and not enough beds. It’s a logistical nightmare.

“Or,” Nora says, smirking in a very wink-wink-nudge-nudge way while she side-eyes Ren, “it’s an opportunity.”

Ren colors, fiddles with his collar until he’s sunk half into it. They’re all polite enough to look away; the sight of Ren, embarrassed is physically painful to witness.

“We’ll — we’ll manage, won’t we?” Ruby pipes up, smiling brightly, and Weiss sees them all smile back in reflex. Sometimes she wonders if she’s the only one Ruby can twist around her little finger — other times she is reminded that she just has that effect on people. Why else would they follow her to the ends of the planet? When Ruby talks, people believe.

(When Ruby talks, Weiss physically feels her heart careening out of control, skidding into a blind curve with no idea what lying ahead. On and on and on, like Ruby’s running up ahead and Weiss follows, with just her voice for company)

They end up cramped in two rooms — Maria gets the bed in the guest room, in honor of her being practically a fossil, a fact that gets Yang’s ears boxed when she says it aloud. Oscar, Jaune, Nora and Ren plant mattresses on the free space on the floor and are snoring in fifteen minutes. Qrow claims he won’t sleep much, and finds a rocking chair that he pulls close to the window, and he sits there, swigging rum ominously every once in a while. The rest of them decide to concede the couch in the living room to Ruby, who looks the most exhausted. And when Weiss gets up because she can’t sleep, she sees Blake and Yang snoozing next to each other, their hands loosely held close to Blake’s chest.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” she hears from somewhere beside her when she goes out to the porch, and whirls around, only to see Terra sitting in the corner. Adrian is perched on her lap, watching the soft snow drizzling outside.

Weiss smiles at her, feeling a little awkward about the entire thing. Shrugs. “Shouldn’t he be.... asleep?” A quick glance at the clock confirms her suspicions. It’s almost one.

Terra chuckles. “He conked out at seven. He wakes up in the middle of the night at least once. This — this helps him go back to sleep. Plus,” she pauses to bend a little and deposit a tiny kiss on top of his tiny head, “it’s one of the few minutes I get to spend with him in the day.”

Weiss thinks of her own childhood, of nightmares and staying up all night terrified, because there was no way, absolutely no way she was allowed to wake her parents up for any reason besides imminent death. The Schnee estate was vast, confusing and filled with entirely too many showpieces no one would ever use, full of winding staircases that lead nowhere close to comfort.

This house is tiny and full of love. Every dent on the couch talks of tickle fights and places someone was so happy that they bounced their way into almost breaking it; the lower parts of the walls are scribbled over with crayons and blue hearts and stick figures of smiling people. She thinks back to dinner when Oscar and Nora burned whatever pie abomination they were supposed to be baking and then they’d all crammed into that tiny space to try to salvage it, and Weiss could’ve sworn even the tiny gaps between them were overflowing with love.

(This is a house someone would want to walk into at the end of the day. A place of shelter. A home)

“Jaune did mention you, you know?” Terra says, after a while, and Weiss is startled out of her train of thought. “In his letters to Saphron when you kids were at Beacon. He was particularly effusive in his description of you.”

“Oh dear lord,” she says, burying her face in her hands because that phase of her life seems so far, far away now. “I’m so glad he got over it. Not before singing an awful made-up song on his guitar, though.”

Terra laughs, softly, and Weiss notices that Adrian’s fallen asleep against her chest, his head resting on the arm she’s moved awkwardly to brace him.

“Saph worries about him,” Terra says. “He makes sure to text her updates, but she can tell when he’s left a lot out. He’ll text her something like roadtrip and she knows to translate it to we’re on the run and have no idea where our next meal is coming from. He’s her only brother and kinda the baby of the family. And she.... she frets.”

“And when she worries, you worry,” Weiss completes.

When Terra looks up at her next, it is with all of her emotions plain on her face to see. Weiss reads consternation, affection, helpless desperation and blinding, blinding love before she bites at her lip and wipes it clean. Nods.

Weiss goes back inside a couple of minutes after they do, Adrian’s head hanging off his mother’s shoulder as they make their way to his room. When she walks in, she catches a glimpse of Qrow, snoring with a blanket now thrown across his torso, and movement off the corner of her eye. Oscar gives her a boyish grin, holds up a finger to his lips, before he disappears back to the guest room. She climbs over Yang and Blake, and finds her way, inexplicably, to Ruby’s side.

At some point in the night, Ruby had apparently kicked off her sheets and they now lay half-thrown over her legs. Weiss kneels at her head, looks on. At her impossibly young features, and her mouth that has fallen open, and the few strands of hair that are strewn across her forehead. Weiss wants to kiss the spot where they meet, wants to kiss the tiny freckle just beside her nose, her snoring mouth. She flushes, and balls her hands up into tight, wanting fists.

When the urge passes (passes in a way that thirst in the desert passes, always there beneath the surface, just pushed back down enough so one can concentrate on more important things), she pulls the sheets up over her body, and tucks the ends, carefully over her shoulders. Her fingers wander, unprompted, to Ruby’s face, where they trace the path of her hair, and brush it away. Once. Twice.

And Ruby stirs beneath her hand, and then is staring at her, wide-eyed. There is no fanfare to how she wakes up, no protracted sigh or stretching. Weiss guesses it’s a product of their on-the-run lives — when there is no time to breathe, one gets used to waking and sleeping easily. In the end there they are, with Weiss kneeling next to Ruby, their faces shrouded in moonlight, staring at each other.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” she whispers, after a beat. Her hand is still resting on Ruby’s face. When she moves to bring it back, Ruby stirs. Her hand comes up to cover Weiss’, keeping it there.

“It’s okay,” Ruby whispers back, still holding her goddamned hand close to her face. Weiss can feel her breath tripping all over itself, like it’s not sure what to do in such close proximity. It’s almost intimate, she imagines, the both of them with their heads huddled together. If she leaned forward a smidge, their foreheads would touch. A head tilt — and here the thought makes her feel hot all over — and they would be kissing.

(The distance suddenly feels almost awfully unbearable to her)

Ruby’s still staring up at her, her eyes still wide and serious. When it all becomes too much, Weiss moves her hand to cover her eyes.

Ruby’s lips curve up in a sleepy smile. “What?”

“Stop,” she says, flustered, “stop looking at me.”

“But I like looking at you,” Ruby tells her, sounding amused and Weiss is one hundred percent sure she is going to die tonight.

(She doesn’t mean it she doesn’t mean it she doesn’t mean it she doesn’t — then — she means it in a different way than what you’re hoping for so shut up shut up shut up)

“Shut up,” she says, finally, then adds. “Dunce.”

Ruby giggles, then her mouth stretches open into the hugest yawn ever. Weiss laughs, boops her nose, because she simply must.

“Sleep, okay?” she says, one last time. Then, without thinking too much about it, she leans down and presses her lips to Ruby’s forehead.

She’s not sure, but Ruby looks a little like she’s blushing. She blinks a few times, then says: “Now I will.”

Weiss’ mattress is just below the couch. Five minutes after she lies down on it, she feels Ruby’s hand travel down and rest on her head. It is to the continuous motion of her hand through Weiss’ hair that sleep finally takes her when it does.

*****

Winter is all angles and bones. Not just physically, but also in the way she carries herself. She is sharp edges and words that cut easily. Weiss knows it’s not just her — the Schnee family tends to make knives out of people and then set them upon the rest of the world to hurt and maim. Weiss knows that better than anyone else, knows that some blades draw blood unwillingly.

Also knows that Winter is trying her very best to change.

But her posture is still ramrod straight, refusal to relax written into every single one of her cells. They’ve all split up after their celebration for their newest promotion to Huntsmen and Huntresses: Yang and Blake having disappeared on a trip to explore the city, Ren, Nora and Jaune off to gorge on Atlesian delicacies, and they’d left Oscar practicing sparring with Ruby. Winter had dropped in to invite her out to a celebratory dinner at Atlas’ finest dining establishment, and so here they were, sitting awkwardly in front of each other, eating whatever was on their plates.

Weiss wonders if Winter would die of shock if she dared to reach over and steal one of the dumplings on her plate. The Weiss of two years ago wouldn’t even have entertained the thought.

Today, she thinks about it maybe five seconds before picking one up and shoving it into her mouth.

Winter’s eyebrows are arched. “You know Father would disapprove of the declination of your table manners.”

“Good thing I don’t care, then,” she replies, flippantly. “Do you?”

Winter rolls her eyes, takes a sip of her wine. “You’re my sister, Weiss. You could take half my liver and I’d only call you a boob. Or something equivalent.”

That’s how Winter Schnee loves. In casual gestures, in standing behind Weiss, ready to sacrifice herself at a moment’s notice. It is not the unwavering, adoring devotion of Yang and Ruby — Yang wouldn’t even entertain the thought of a potential hurt coming her sister’s way, jumping into action to save her before she even asks. Winter, however, needs to make sure Weiss can take care of herself, only hanging back in case things get too dire.

She smacks her hand with the chopsticks when Weiss reaches for another one. “I offered up a liver, you go looking for my heart? Behave, Weiss.”

It makes her laugh.

And it’s this foreign.... ease, for lack of a better word, that has Weiss’ tongue loose enough for her to shoot Hey, Winter, you ever been in love before an hour later, when they’re walking back to the military complex.

Her sister seems to be choking on thin air — she coughs and squawks and makes all sorts of undignified noises, before smacking Weiss on her head to make her stop laughing.

“I’m sorry,” Weiss says, when that hysterical bout is over. “Just wanted to see the look on your face. You don’t, you don’t have to answer that if it’s too personal.”

“Imbecile,” Winter mutters, but she turns to face her anyway. They’re almost at the building that has their apartment, and they stop almost simultaneously, standing in front of each other and trying very hard to avoid looking into each other’s eyes.

Winter hesitates, then speaks again. “Really want to know?”

Oh. Wow. Okay. “Yes,” she nods, trying to look casual about the whole thing.

“Once,” Winter tells her, running her hands through her perfectly coiffed hair in a very uncharacteristic move. “Before I joined the military.”

“And what happened?” Weiss asks, after a prolonged pause.

Winter’s smile is both sad and amused. “Father found out about her. What do you think?”

And she doesn’t know if it’s the easily dropped pronoun, or the way she can still read the utter loneliness in her sister’s eyes, but Weiss finds herself taking a step forward and wrapping Winter up in a hug.

(Winter is all angles and bones)

And stiff limbs. “What,” her sister says, hesitantly, “Weiss, what are you doing?”

“Hugging you.”

“We don’t do that,” comes the prim response.

“We also don’t steal food off of each other's plates, Winter,” she replies, easily, still acutely conscious of the way Winter is just pressed against her stiffly. “As far as major changes go, I personally wouldn’t mind seeing a lot more of this.”

Winter’s arms come up, finally and hang loosely off her shoulders. As far as hugs go, it’s not the most comfortable one.

(As far as hugs go, it’s one of the best Weiss has ever had)

And that’s' the moment, she becomes aware of movement from somewhere up high. Winter’s back is facing the building, so she’s in the perfect position to tilt her head up and see—

(What in God’s name?)

Oscar, Jaune, Nora, Ruby, Blake and Yang and crammed into the same window, peeking out at them, and appear to be giggling furiously. Ren, thankfully, seems to have enough dignity to not stoop to the level of these utter pains in her ass.

“What the—”

“Weiss?” Winter asks, still awkwardly hugging her. “Something wrong?”

She laughs. “Depends on what you define as wrong,” she says, and disentangles, so Winter can turn around and see for herself.

“Oh dear.”

A chorus comes sailing from above. “Hi, Officer Winter!” they all say, and then disperse, laughing madly. Only Ruby remains in the end, waving at them shyly.

Winter, to her utter surprise (and really, it shouldn’t have been. If the evening had taught her anything, it was that she didn’t give her sister enough credit), waves back. When she turns back to Weiss, she’s even smiling a little.

“I like that one,” she tells her, eyes glinting with what Weiss can only define as mirth.

“Everyone likes her,” Weiss replies, shrugging.

“Do you?” Winter’s eyebrows are raised, and Weiss cannot help dropping her gaze, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of her neck. Winter’s hand falls on her hair, ruffles it up a little.

Her parting words are Be careful, you boob. Weiss pretends not to understand.

*****

Blake and Yang are easy to figure out. Even Weiss, who has a general tendency of being clueless in these matters, can see the way Blake kind of — withers, when Yang isn’t around. There’s a light in her eyes that’s only visible when Yang’s close to her, a subtle confidence in her shoulders that says Yeah, I’m good now. Blake and Yang carry their love in their bodies, always moulding themselves to the other’s relative position. Weiss is sure even they don’t realize it yet, the way they always seem to come together when they’re in the same room, this unconscious meeting of opposite poles that ends in relief. They’re tangled hands, arms resting around shoulders, feet nudging each other, eventually leading up to secret smiles in team meetings.

Sometimes, Weiss is sick of the whole thing.

Oftentimes, Weiss wants them to be happy so, so much that she fights the urge to push them into a room together for two hours.

“They’ll be back soon, you know?” she tells Blake, who hasn’t moved from the window since they finally made contact with the rest of the team. Blake whirls around, relaxes, then accepts the coffee Weiss is holding out to her.

“Thanks,” Blake says. “I just—”

“I know, I know. You worry.”

“I just,” she says, tugs at her hair with her free hand, “I just, I don’t know how anyone does it. Stay away, I mean, I — it’s like I can’t breathe properly when I don’t see her.”

And Weiss has done it once, a long time ago, although the magnitude of her feelings wasn’t known to her back then. Back when her father had locked her up in an ivory tower and she had no idea what Blake or Yang or Ruby were doing, if they were even alright. But she still stayed up all night, wondering if Ruby was okay, if she had eaten, if she was thinking about Weiss.

She imagines having to leave Ruby for a moment now, and the melancholy that washes over her almost brings her to her knees.

“Some hypocrite you are,” she says, teasing Blake gently, “with all the find yourself schtick you gave Nora earlier.”

She laughs, and Weiss finds herself hoping it’s taken her mind off of Yang for at least a little while.

“I like your brother,” she says, then. “He’s adorable.”

“Can you say that to him, please?” Weiss begs her. “And can I please be in the room when you do so?”

There’s another moment of levity. “Hey,” she starts, frowning a little. “Do you know where he is right now? Haven’t seen either him or my mother after the whole Grimm debacle.”

“I last saw him with Ruby,” Blake says. “I think he’s.... quite taken to her, actually.”

Weiss sighs. “Of course.”

(Ruby is the pied piper, after all. Everyone would follow her to the ends of the planet)

(Weiss? Weiss would walk with her beyond it)

Blake grins at her.

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, mischievously. “Seems he’s not the only Schnee who’s quite taken with her.”

(Blake deserves the massive bump running headlong into the glyph Weiss conjures up in the next second. No doubts about that)

*****

The end of the world comes after the night before the end of the world.

Like a protracted moment of utter calm before the cacophony starts, they all comes together, and eventually split up to the places that give them the most peace. Weiss takes a tour of the house once. Her mother’s sleeping on a chair next to Whitley’s bed; Weiss covers her with a blanket before she moves on. Jaune and Oscar are sitting guard over Penny, next to Ren, who has squeezed himself in beside Nora. Yang smiles at her warmly when she comes upon her and Blake in another room. Blake’s fallen asleep with her head resting on Yang’s lap. She wanders around for a little while more, until she finally comes upon Ruby in her bedroom.

“Why is it,” Weiss says, “that most of the time I meet you, I have to tell you to go to sleep?”

Ruby turns, smiles at her, but the smile is fractured in places. Weiss takes a step forward, closer.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing, nothing, I,” Ruby takes a deep breath, looks around. “I can’t believe you lived here.”

Weiss lets her change the topic. “What’s so unbelievable about that?”

“Just doesn’t look like you, that’s all.”

“That’s because I don’t exactly belong here.”

“Where do you belong then?” Ruby asks, looking right at her.

With you. “With all of you,” she says. It’s true. “Blake and Yang. And Jaune and Nora and Ren and Oscar. And even — that stupid alcoholic uncle of yours. And—”

“—and?” she asks, a lopsided grin on her face.

“And you.”

Ruby sighs, steps forward so they’re in each other’s personal space.

“Weiss,” she says once, quietly.

Weiss closes her eyes, takes a step forward of her own, blindly, feeling Ruby’s steadying hands on her shoulders, her back, her hair. She feels a hand carefully moving against the scrunchie holding her hair together.

“Can I?”

She nods, feels her hair pulls free. Ruby helps detangle it, the braid, and ends with tender hands, smiles.

“I like your hair,” she says, then makes a soft sound in her throat, urgent, wanting. “Weiss.”

“Yes, Ruby?”

“Weiss, Weiss, Weiss,” Ruby says, again, and now her forehead is tipped against Weiss’.

“What, darling?” Weiss murmurs, and feels Ruby’s shuddering breath in response. There’s a small, desperate kiss pressed to her hair, then her forehead, and amusingly enough, her nose.

“Weiss, I have to tell you—”

“—wait!” she says, not moving. It’s not like she could. A Grimm could be standing in the room right now and it couldn’t draw her away from Ruby. She touches Ruby’s cheek gently, feels Ruby sigh and sink into her palm. “Please — please don’t say what you’re about to.”

(A part of her, the stupid, hopeful part knows what it is and craves it, dreads it, mourns it already)

“And what am I about to say?” Ruby asks, her eyes burning with something Weiss can’t find the words to define.

“Something incriminating, I fear.”

“You fear?”

“Yes. But I also — I hope.”

“Then let me say it,” Ruby implores. She removes her arms from around Weiss, grabs her hands and raises them to her lips. Kisses her knuckles carefully. “Weiss, you know already. You must know.”

“I do, sweetheart, I do,” she says, resting her head against Ruby’s collarbone. The two of them have been circling each other in some dance that Weiss hasn’t been able to pin down yet, have been hurtling, at alarming speeds towards unknown cliffs, and the same way that Ruby has to know that Weiss would split herself end to end for her, that if cut into pieces, Weiss would bleed for her happily, Weiss knows.

(All love is violence. She knows that better than anyone)

“Tell me,” she starts, “tell me when there is peace.”

“But there will never be peace!” Ruby says, and her voice cracks. Weiss raises her hand blindly to press at her cheek and feels the warm moisture sticking there.

She rises on her toes so they’re level again. “There will be.” Weiss would make sure of it. For Yang and Blake, who need time to get their fledgling love off the ground. For Ren and Nora and Jaune who have lost too many friends already. For Oscar, who deserves a chance to grow up and for Qrow, who deserves a chance to feel young again. For Penny and Maria and Pietro and her mother and Whitley and Winter.

For the girl she loves.

For Ruby.

When they kiss, Weiss thinks she’s shattering into a million pieces, like she would never be the same again, even if reformed into someone who resembles Weiss Schnee on the surface. How could she, with the memory of the movement of Ruby’s lips now imprinted on hers, her fingers tracking indelible marks through her hair — tomorrow, she will remember, a week later, she will remember, if somehow, she couldn’t see Ruby for another thirty years, her skin would remind her, every day.

*****

The end of the world comes before the day after the end of the world.

Weiss wakes up in the woods, empty handed. She wakes up, and thinks of Ren and Nora and Oscar, hopes they got to safety. Of her mom and Whitley and Winter. She thinks of Jaune who tried carrying her to the door. Of Yang who fell infinite miles into the void before Blake fell an equal distance to her knees, of finding Gambol Shroud and trying her very best to gather her courage to honor her teammates best.

Weiss wakes up in the woods, stumbles to her feet, looks around. There’s water to be searched for, and sustenance to be gathered. She’s got a long journey ahead of her, after all.

Ruby’s waiting for her.

#rwby #weiss x ruby #whiterose #rwby fanfiction #i have a feeling this is just the start of a lifelong obsession with rwby and writing whiterose fanfic but eh #i simply had to attempt to give weiss schnee some form of happiness - she is my absolute fav character from any media ever #also if you're a regular reader (I'm sorry if you are :P) and you find a metaphor i've repeated no you didn't.....pls #there's only a number of finite ways you can write about falling in love okay? i've checked #anyways - im not sure if its my best attempt at anything but here goes #happy reading!

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whump-me-all-night-long · 3 years

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Jeweler!Sapphire AU (not canon)

Welcome to 3k words of this amazing AU idea that may or may not become a multi-parter. No editing, we die like.. idk. Please let me know what y'all think!!

Tagging the usual group (let me know if you only want to be tagging in canon stuff): @newbornwhumperfly @unicornscotty @itsleighlove @whump-scribbles @getyourwhumphere @skunkandgrenade @penny-for-your-whump @lektric-whump @just-a-whump-lover @thelazywitchphotographer @restrainthenmaime @angstyachesplus @lilbitwhumpy @leaderofthebeanarmy @aquard-skaii @whumprincess @thatgaysnail @finaldreams1106 @reveriedeludesme @kemonoinuzuka @circlingravens @whumpasaurus101 @spicy-wendigo @femmewithadhd @wafflestakethecake @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @broadwaybabe18 @whumpinggoodtime @temporary-whump-sideblog @dumb-and-lesbian let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: talk of death (in a pretty disrespectful manner), talk of human trafficking, intimate whumper, hair pulling, noncon touching, some pretty noncon vibes near the end, uhhh Saph/Dustin is a real asshole, let me know if I need to tag anything else!

Masterlist

---

The sound of a ringing phone woke Dustin. With a groan, he rolled over in bed, blankets tangled around his legs. Blindly groping along his nightstand, he found his phone and answered the call, from an unknown number, blue eyes squinting against the flash of the bright screen.

“Yeah?” he answered, stifling a yawn.

“Is this Mr. Moore?” a timid male voice said.

Rubbing a hand across his face, Dustin sat up, glancing at the clock with a groan. “Yes, this is he,” he responded, voice tight. “Now who the fuck is calling me at four a.m.?”

A throat was cleared on the other end of the line. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I’m Nicholas Jameston.” There was a pause, as if he expected Dustin to recognize the name. “I’m your uncle’s lawyer.”

Dustin blinked, brow furrowing in confusion. “My uncle? You mean.. Uncle Spence?”

A curt “Yes, sir.”

“Okayyyy,” he drew out. “Listen, I haven’t talked to him in years. Since I left for college at least. Probably before even high school. You see, my dad and him, they didn’t really get along-” He cut himself off. Why was he telling this man anything? “Anyways, there must be some confusion. I don’t know why he wants his lawyer contacting me all of a sudden.” Shit, he thought. Did I break or steal something last time I was at his place? Is this what this is about?

There was an awkward beat of silence before the lawyer cleared his throat again. “No, sir, there’s no mistake or confusion. You see, you’re Mr. Spencer’s closest remaining blood relative.”

Dustin was really not awake enough for this conversation. “Just say what you need to and be done with it.”

“Your uncle is dead,” the lawyer finally said. “And you’re his sole heir.”

Dustin pulled up in his car, a shiny BMW he’d bought using his dad’s life insurance money a few years ago. He squinted against the darkness of early morning, checking the address again. This place looked less like a family home and more like a fortress. A prison.

He wondered, for the millionth time since getting rudely awoken and told that a man he’d met only a handful of times was a) dead and b) giving him everything, what exactly he was doing here. His dad must be rolling over in his grave. Not that Dustin particularly cared about that.

He knew that the brothers had never gotten along, that his dad, the older brother, had apparently “abandoned” the family business because it was “amoral,” but Dustin had never really been privy to the details. He rolled his eyes just thinking about his dad and his need to be righteous and perfect all the time.

That apparently had gone out the window at some point, but the bastard was too proud to go back to his brother - their parents were already dead by that time - and instead decided to start his own company, selling.. who knew? Certainly not Dustin. No, the young twenty-six-year-old was perfectly content enjoying his bachelor playboy lifestyle, feeding off mommy and daddy’s blood money.

“Mr. Moore?” A man was standing on the doorstep, fidgeting nervously with a thick manila envelope.

Dustin took one look at him and barely withheld a sigh. This man, short, balding, oily, was a lawyer alright. He raised one lazy eyebrow. “Jameson, I presume?” he called back, making his way slowly up the path to the door.

“Uh, it’s Jameston, sir,” the man corrected quickly.

Dustin didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with. It’s early and I have a busy day ahead of me. Left a pretty girl waiting for me to call. Wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

Not bothering to wait, Dustin stepped up to the door and opened it, stepping inside a grand foyer. He whistled softly, taking in the shimmering chandelier, the sweeping staircase, with a gold-woven rug running down the middle, and the many large and well-furnished rooms branching off from the entrance.

“Now this is a nice playhouse, huh?” he said, grinned indolently.

He saw Jameston’s jaw tighten fractionally. “Yes, sir,” he responded. “Now, I can give you a complete tour of the house now. However, Mr. Spencer’s real estate agent can do that when she arrives here in-” he glanced at his watch - a fake, Dustin had noticed - “a couple hours or so. Furthermore, there was a, erm, rather sensitive matter that Mr. Spencer tasked me with familiarizing you with personally.” He adjusted his tie slightly, clearly nervous, before motioning Dustin down one of the smaller hallways to the side.

His curiosity piqued, Dustin followed. “What do you mean? Oh, don’t tell me, was the old man into some shady illegal business? Drugs? Girls?”

Jameston shook his head, Adam's apple bobbing. “No sir. Your uncle, he was an.. art collector, of a sort. Well, he created his own art, really. However, it was not necessarily, um, legally acquired.”

Dustin barely held in a laugh at the lawyer’s clear panic. “Of course it wasn’t,” he scoffed. “Do you know how much shady shit has gone on in this family?” He couldn’t stop the bark of laughter this time. “Of course you do, you’re the lawyer.”

Jameston’s face flushed but he remained quiet until he reached an indiscreet door at the end of a short hall. If Dustin didn’t know any better, he’d assume it was a closet or something. Jameston cleared his throat as he opened the door. “Welcome to the Jewelry Box, sir.”

Carnelian sighed, his head falling back against the wall as he stretched his legs out along the small bed. The only sounds in the large room was the occasional movement from one of the others.

“That’s it,” he muttered, standing up and marching over to the glass wall. “Is anyone else wondering where the bastard is?” he called, frowning as he caught the gazes of several of the others.

Emerald just shook his head, silently warning him. Amethyst, however, scoffed, picking at her nails intently. “Why do you care?” she snapped. “It’s not like you’re ever doing anything but yelling and cursing.”

“So?” Carnelian shot back. “Aren’t you at least a little curious as to what’s going on?”

As if to answer his questions, he heard the door hiss open. Turning his gaze towards it, he felt his lips tugging down into a frown.

“Here we go again,” he muttered. “I knew the bastard would be back before long.”

Then he met the gaze of a stranger, arrogant and lazy and startlingly bright blue. Eyebrows flicking up, he blurted, “Who the fuck are you?”

Smirking, the stranger glanced at a smaller man next to him, one Carnelian had glimpsed down here once or twice before, always with the Jeweler. “I think I’d like to ask you the same question.”

The small man cleared his throat and began speaking, quietly enough that Carnelian couldn’t hear. Instead he took in the stranger, as if he couldn’t quite tear his eyes away.

The man was attractive, annoyingly attractive from Carnelian’s perspective. His skin was a bronzed tone, clear and smooth. He was tall, probably taller than Carnelian, with a lean, slightly muscled body. He had on a dark t-shirt that clung to his body and somehow looked expensive, with form-fitting jeans and some Converse high tops on as well. His dark brown hair was slightly wavy, with the top grown out long and falling into his face. Carnelian’s eyes drifted down towards his mouth before he forcefully pulled them back up to his eyes, which were-

Still on him. Carnelian felt himself blush and then scowl as he met the man’s gaze. Already he was getting on his nerves. And where the hell was the Jeweler? Was this stranger some new client of his, looking to buy one of them? At that thought, Carnelian felt a flash of panic through him and glanced over at Emerald, who was looking subtly at him as well, clearly thinking the same thing.

Carnelian tuned back in when the stranger exclaimed, “Are you shitting me right now?” The stranger was now looking at each of them, studying them more intently.

His gaze almost completely skimmed over Diamond and Ruby, both of them still curled up in their beds, watching with wary and confused gazes. He barely even noticed Amber, the new one still drugged to high heaven after mouthing off to the Jeweler yesterday. Carnelian doubted the kid could even remember their own name right now, much less stand up from where they were sprawled in their bed. He took a bit longer looking at Emerald, his defensive stance, wise eyes, then Amethyst, with her crossed arms and haughty expression, before finally settling on Carnelian.

After several long, tense seconds, he looked back at the other man. “So you’re saying,” he drawled slowly, deliberately. “That this, all of this, the house, the business, the.. Jewels-” his mouth twisted into a cruel smirk- “they’re all mine?”

Swallowing, the other man nodded. “Yes sir, that’s what I’m saying.” He drew out a piece of paper and, clearing his throat, began to read. “‘I hereby give the entirety of my properties, including my family home, my businesses, and my Jewelry Box, to my closest remaining blood relative upon my death.’ That would be you, Dustin Moore.”

There was a gasp from one of the other cells, where Diamond had stood up, flying to the window, eyes wide and frantic. “Death? Wait, no, Sir, he- he can’t be-” They dissolved into sobs, sliding to their knees on the floor.

Carnelian glanced around at the rest of the Jewels, the only sound coming from Diamond. The rest of them had frozen as well, not sure how they were meant to respond. Carnelian was reeling, glancing down as he took a shaky breath. On the one hand, he was glad the bastard was dead. On the other, well, the Jeweler had never looked at him the way the stranger, Dustin the other man had said, looked at him. The Jeweler looked at him like some prized object, something to be shown off proudly and then put back into storage. The Jeweler treated him less than human; Dustin’s gaze said he knew precisely how human Carnelian was, he just didn’t care.

Before he knew it, Carnelian was raising his head to glare at the other man, only to find him still looking at him. As Dustin slowly moved forward, he asked, “Did my uncle give these.. Jewels any names? Because I think I’m seeing a theme in them.” He stopped a couple feet away from the glass, his head tilted slightly. “The only one I can’t seem to figure out is this one.”

Carnelian’s lip curled. “Stay the fuck away from me,” he snarled softly, looking him up and down before raising his brows slightly. “Bastard jr,” he added.

Dustin almost seemed caught off guard before letting out a laugh. “I thought you said that he trained them to be all submissive and whatever,” he called over to the other. “Jameston, this one seems to be a bit feral.” He stepped even closer, lifting one hand to touch the glass. Carnelian fell back a couple inches, eyes still narrowed.

Jameston cleared his throat yet again. Carnelian would almost feel bad for the guy, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was complicit in letting him stay kidnapped. “Yes sir, your uncle had his ways of training them. However, he didn’t train them all the same way. He found that one’s fight to be..” He skimmed his notes quickly. “..rather appealing, sir.”

Carnelian made a noise of disgust as Dustin grinned. “I can’t say I blame him.”

Carnelian barely breathed until Dustin stepped away, turning back to Jameston. “Well, I’ve seen them all. Let’s go back upstairs now. I think I saw a nice liquor cabinet that I’d like to raid.”

Once they were both gone from view and the door had hissed shut, Carnelian leaned his head against the cool glass.

“You okay?” Emerald asked.

Carnelian just shook his head, a sudden lump in his throat. “The way he looked at me,” he said softly.

“I know,” Emerald murmured back.

He glanced up to find the older man looking at him with concern and pity.

“Well then,” Amethyst said loudly, breaking the silence that had fallen thick and heavy. “That was certainly something.”

Diamond sobbed loudly. “That.. that can’t be true. Can it?” They looked up, searching the others’ faces. Carnelian felt a twinge of pity for them. After over a decade of being trapped down here, they had been reduced to a mere shadow of whoever they might have once been. At whatever they might’ve seen on their faces, Diamond dissolved back into inconsolable sobs.

Resting her head on the wall, Ruby quietly asked, “So what happens now?”

There was a beat of silence before Emerald replied, “Now we wait.”

Back upstairs, Dustin was finally alone after getting rid of that annoying lawyer. He had had to practically shove the man out of the house to get him to leave. Even then, he had only left with promises to call later about the details.

For now, Dustin was sprawled out in a large, overstuffed armchair, a bottle of expensive whisky and a half empty glass next to him. He was already on his second glass, and he had no plans on stopping any time soon.

His mind drifted to the one who had glared and cursed at him. The smaller one, with the hard gaze, numerous freckles, and bright curly hair. The one Jameston had said was named Carnelian. Dustin looked up the stone and smiled at the pictures that were pulled up. Bright, fiery stones, of varying shades, Dustin had to admit, he could see the resemblance.

Pouring himself another glass, he sunk down further into the chair. He supposed he should be more concerned with the fact that there were six human beings locked in some creepy basement that he had apparently just inherited. But, after living the life that he had lived so far, Dustin had to admit that this was far from the craziest thing he had seen. He knew plenty of friends whose families had, well, less than legal people working for them, and now that he thought about it, he swore he could remember some show a few of his friends had gone to where the host had all his pets or whatever they were called designed as gemstones.

He laughed softly, quietly murmuring, “Carnelian, huh?” before draining the glass and pouring one more.

It was hours later when Carnelian awoke in the darkness. The bright lights, luckily, were still on their automated timer, so they had shut out at their usual time. It had been hours since Diamond’s sobs had slowly petered out and since the others’ quiet, stilted conversations had dwindled. Now, everyone was asleep.

Well, everyone except Carnelian. It took him a moment to figure out what had awoken him, a soft tapping on the glass wall of his cell. With a soft groan, he rolled over, out of the bed, squinting in the dim light.

In front of him stood the silhouette of a man. A couple seconds later, Carnelian recognized him as Dustin, his new.. owner. He almost snorted at the title. This man wasn’t any older than Carnelian, and he looked and behaved like an entitled, overprivileged frat boy.

Carnelian slowly walked closer. “What the hell do you want?” he whispered, because he didn’t want to accidentally wake the others and unleash the chaos that would bring with it. It took him a moment to realize that Dustin was fiddling with the lock on the door.

Without answering him, Dustin finally figured out how to unlatch it and swung the door open. He looked back up at Carnelian and made a silent motion for him to follow as he padded back towards the door.

Frowning, Carnelian carefully stepped out, towards him and the hallway beyond, where he could see light spilling out from the door. Knowing it probably wasn’t very smart, Carnelian walked into the hallway, squinting slightly at the suddenly bright lights.

Before he knew what was happening, there was a hand fisting in his hair and pushing him up against the wall. Carnelian looked up, eyes wide, to find Dustin standing much too close to him and several inches taller than him.

Feeling his breath stutter and his heart skip a beat, Carnelian breathed out, “What the hell do you want?” He barely dared take his eyes away from Dustin’s.

With the hand not pinning him to the wall, Dustin leaned closer and wrapped a curl around his finger, pulling until Carnelian wince slightly before letting it go, watching it bounce. This close, Carnelian could smell the whisky on his breath.

“Are.. are you drunk?” he asked, swallowing hard when that steely blue gaze met his, hazy yet surprisingly clear.

“That’s irrelevant,” he said, smirking as he pushed closer to Carnelian, who tried to pull away, but one vicious yank on his hair had his eyes watering and stilled the rest of his body. Dustin raised a hand and slowly traced over Carnelian’s cheeks, ending with one finger following the outline of his lips. “You’re Carnelian.”

Carnelian barely resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and instead held his breath, eyes wide and searching Dustin’s. He didn’t dare to breathe, much less speak, so he didn’t ask why Dustin had said something he already knew the answer to.

It felt as if an eternity had passed before Dustin pulled away, shoving Carnelian roughly back towards the door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said glibly, pulling the door shut once Carnelian was through, leaving him back in the darkness.

Immediately, Carnelian went back to the one place he never thought he’d call safe. Once he had pulled the glass door closed, hearing the lock click, he curled up in his bed, as far away from the door as he could get, the thin blanket pulled over him as his heart beat in his throat.

He didn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night.

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jammatown919 · 3 years

Text

Splash

This one’s for @saph-ruby, who requested the Dolts on a rainy date! Well, this certainly wasn't how Ruby had imagined her day going. At the very least, she'd expected herself and Penny to able to enjoy more than twenty minutes of their park date before it suddenly started pouring on them.

Personally, Ruby didn't mind the rain all that much. It reminded her of the occasional storms she would see back on Patch, and of trying to slip out of the house with Yang to play in the puddles when they were kids. Penny, on the other hand, was adamant that they needed to get somewhere dry before Ruby caught a cold. And so here they were, hiding underneath the awning of a closed ice cream stand, waiting for the rain to let up enough for them to leave.

"Y'know," Ruby said after about five minutes of staring out at the rain in silence. "We don't have to go. I kind of like the rain. Plus, we get the whole park to ourselves."

"But you might get sick!" Penny protested. She'd backed herself right up to the stand, as far away from the falling raindrops as she could possibly get.

"Isn't that a myth, though?" Ruby inquired. "Like, water can't actually make you sick, right?"

"Well, no, but being in the cold rain for extended periods of time can temporarily weaken your immune system." Penny replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh, c'mon Penny, that's such a small chance of me getting sick." Ruby insisted. "Isn't having some fun in the rain worth the risk?"

"Nothing is worth risking your health." Penny said seriously. She wrinkled her nose and added, "Besides, rain is gross."

"Okay, first of all, it's a cold, not the Black Death. I'd be fine in two days, tops." Ruby assured her. "Second of all, you bite your tongue!"

Penny gave her a confused look, but nevertheless, she poked the tip of her tongue out between her teeth and gently bit down on it.

"Figure of speech, Penny." Ruby chuckled, and Penny immediately released her tongue with a small 'oh'. "What I meant was, rain is awesome! How could you think it's gross?"

"I do not like it when my clothes get wet." Penny explained. "They get sticky."

"What if I let you borrow some of my clothes after?" Ruby asked. She grinned as Penny's face flushed. It was common knowledge among pretty much everyone they knew that Penny loved wearing Ruby's clothes and would take any opportunity to do so, but she always got flustered whenever anyone called her out on it.

"Can I wear your big sweater?" She requested softly.

"You really like that sweater, huh?" Ruby replied with a chuckle. Out of all her clothes, her oversized sweater was the one thing Penny asked to borrow the most. Sometimes she'd even swipe it when Ruby wasn't looking. "You can have the sweater for the rest of the day if you let me show you how fun the rain can be. And if you really don't like it, we can head back, okay?"

"Alright." Penny reluctantly agreed. "What did you have in mind?"

Ruby smirked and ducked out from underneath the awning, walking right into the huge puddle that had formed just beyond it. She shivered as cold water seeped into her shoes and pulled her hood up to keep the rain from messing up her hair too much.

"Ever been in a splash fight?" She asked. Penny shook her head and stayed where she was, waiting for an explanation. "Well, it's exactly what it sounds like. You just try and soak your friends as much as possible. Yang and I used to do it all the time as kids."

"How do you know who wins?" Penny inquired.

"There's not really a winner," Ruby replied. "It's just a fun way to spend a rainy day."

Penny considered this briefly, then slowly stepped out into the rain. She stood there for a moment, as if trying to get used to the sensation.

"Now try splashing me." Ruby prompted.

Penny glanced down at the water at her feet, then gently kicked some of it in Ruby's direction. A few drops spattered across Ruby's already wet shoes. In response, Ruby sent a real splash her way. Penny leapt back with a yelp as water struck her legs.

Ruby paused, thinking that perhaps this was too much to start with for someone who already disliked the rain. Just as she was about to open her mouth to ask if Penny wanted to stop, her girlfriend kicked out at the puddle again, much harder this time. The ensuing splash came up to her hips, soaking through her clothes in spots the rain hadn't quite been able to reach.

Ruby smirked and splashed again, and this time Penny let out a sound of delight as the water hit her. She dodged out of the way as Penny splashed at her one more time, leaving the puddle entirely.

"Having fun?" She asked.

"A little." Penny admitted with a small smile.

"Good." Ruby said as she dipped her toes back into the puddle. She kicked upward and sent a thin spray toward Penny's face, then turned to run before her girlfriend could retaliate. Behind her, she could hear Penny's quick footsteps giving chase.

"Come back here!" Penny shouted with a laugh. Ruby sped up, entirely leaping over another puddle in an attempt to outpace her.

Not even five seconds later, the sound of footsteps was replaced with a splash and a short shriek. Ruby, assuming Penny had slipped and fallen, stopped and turned around with the intention of helping her girlfriend up, but Penny was nowhere in sight.

"Firefly?" She called out cautiously, looking around. No response. "Penny, where'd you go?"

Realistically, there was no way Penny could have gotten out of sight that quickly, but a whole person didn't just vanish into thin air. She had to be around here somewhere. Ruby stepped forward, squinting through the rain, and realized that there were ripples moving along the surface of the puddle she'd jumped over. No way, she thought.

But then Penny's head broke the surface and she scrambled out, her eyes still wide with alarm.

"Oh my God, how deep was that thing?!" Ruby exclaimed, hurrying to help Penny to her feet.

"Nearly six feet." Penny replied, blinking water from her eyes. "I suppose that was a hole that the rain filled, rather than a real puddle."

"Are you okay?" Ruby asked sympathetically. She almost wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of a person having fallen into a six-foot deep puddle, but making sure her girlfriend was alright took priority.

"Yes, I'm fine." Penny nodded, though she seemed more than a little uncomfortable. "But I think I would like to get somewhere dry now."

"Okay," Ruby gently pressed a kiss to Penny's cold cheek. "We'll head back to the Academy now, and you can have my big sweater."

Penny smiled at that, and Ruby put an arm around her shoulders as they began walking toward the park's entrance.

"Sorry today didn't go the way we were hoping." Ruby said as they walked. "But you had at least a little fun, right?"

"I did." Penny affirmed. "I still believe that rain is gross, but you made it more enjoyable."

"So enjoyable you'd be willing to try this again, maybe?" Ruby prompted with a tiny grin. "Possibly when we're better dressed for it?" She added, not at all pleased with the feeling of her soaked cape clinging to her back.

"Alright," Penny agreed. "We can try again next time it rains."

Ruby's grin widened and she pumped one fist into the air in a celebratory motion. If nothing else, she'd gotten her girlfriend to stop hating rain quite as much.

"Mission accomplished."

-----------------

If you enjoyed this piece, please considering reblogging to share it with others! Likes unfortunately don’t do anything to help a post circulate, so the only way content creators get any recognition on this site is if people reblog their posts. If you do reblog, know that I appreciate you so much and think that you’re the coolest!

#nuts and dolts #nuts n dolts #penny polendina #ruby rose #rwby #this takes place somewhere in V7 #V8? Don't know her #no proofreading we die like men #my writing

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witchersgoldenbard · 3 years

Text

@all-hail-the-witcher wrote this wonderful mermay hurt/comfort featuring Geralt/Eskel. Me being me, I had to add some softs. I hope you enjoy, dear 💕

Saph’s wonderful, amazing, masterpiece of mermay can be found here on ao3

Look At You, Love

Words: 1775 | insecure Geralt, soft Eskel, fluff

It’s alright love, we care about you, we love you, and we are not going anywhere.

As Geralt sleeps, soaking in the warm water of the springs and safe in his love’s arms, these are the words that stay with him. He is exhausted, slips in and out of consciousness for what must be a day or two, judging by the meals he is being fed.

As his body heals, his mind needs rest - and there is no better rest, he knows, than being in Eskel’s arms, hearing his slow heartbeat as a constant reminder that they are both here, both alive.

After the petrifying certainty that he was going to die alone in that cave, this reminder is welcome and needed.

Our heartbeats match, he thinks once as he wakes up, exhausted but alive. They match and nothing else matters.

And so he sleeps. He wakes. He eats. He is safe.

Now if only it weren’t for that damned fishtail, shimmering in hues of silver and gold in the dim light, making itself known even in darkness. Always there, always fucking there.

And Eskel is staring at it. He can feel eyes resting on his form, the one that is now so new to Eskel. The one that must be so repulsive. Still, Eskel holds him close. Keeps telling him It’s alright love, we care about you, we love you, and we are not going anywhere.

Geralt wants to bask in that belief for a moment more, wants to keep his heart as slow as Eskel’s for as long as he can. Before the inevitable panic will start. Before Eskel will leave him. Before—

“I know you’re awake,” Eskel says, pressing his lips to Geralt’s hairline in the gentlest of ways.

Geralt hums but doesn’t move, fearing that he will ruin this moment, this peace, this love, like the ripples of water disturb the calm surface where his tail moves.

His tail. His luminescent, gigantic fucking tail.

He breathes deeply and once more there are kisses pressed against his hair, his temple, everywhere Eskel can reach. For a moment, Geralt likes to imagine that Eskel would press the same kisses to his tail - fluttering, feather-light kisses that convey his love and devotion.

It’s a nice image. But a cruel one as well because that won’t happen.

Once again, the weight of his love’s stare is heavy and almost unbearable.

“You’re staring,” he rasps, suddenly aware of how dry his throat is. He doesn’t know, though, if it comes from the panic he tries to suppress, or if it’s really been that long since he last had something to drink.

A beat of silence, and Geralt almost expects Eskel to remove himself and put a distance between them. Instead, more kisses.

“I am, yes. You insist to keep staring at my face, love, so now I get to stare at your tail.” Eskel’s voice is light and tension bleeds out of Geralt.

So often had he imagined how to tell Eskel, how he would react. With anger or sadness or disappointment or even pity. Never had he allowed himself to imagine Eskel to be… well, Eskel about it. Gentle. Light. Loving. He doesn’t know how to breathe for a second there.

“Well, your face is nice,” he says intelligently and revels in Eskel’s snort.

“And you are beautiful, so we’re even.”

The way he says it… it’s no different than the way he had always said it. For years. For lifetimes. Forever, Eskel had said it like this. And to get it now, the same genuineness, the same honesty and love now that his secret is out? Geralt is sure this must be a fever dream. Something went wrong, his wounds aren’t healing right and now he is stuck in a dream. A wonderful dream. One he doesn’t want to wake up from.

There are so many thoughts running through his mind, so many questions and all of them pathetic and weak. He settles for one, though. One that will allow Eskel to be true and reveal as much as he would like.

“Am I?” It’s barely more than a whisper, and he is infinitely glad that Vesemir is not here. Even a near-death experience hadn’t rendered him as weak as this question had, and it’s only for his love to hear.

Eskel tightens his hold on Geralt minutely and peppers his head with more kisses that make Gerslt smile. He knows then that whatever words will follow, his heart will be safe. Forever beating the same rhythm as Eskel’s, their love united by the same beat.

“You are positively ethereal, Geralt.” A gentle hand slides down his tail slowly, feeling the scales as golden eyes follow. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful in your human form, obviously, but this? Believe me when I say I was speechless for a few hours just taking it all in. And I am not done taking it in, nor will I ever be. I have never seen anything or anyone more beautiful than you.”

The sincerity in his voice almost hits Geralt more than the words themselves. He can’t return any, but that doesn’t matter because Eskel is not done yet, his hand still exploring Geralt’s tail, touching it with a care that Geralt had never applied himself. He chokes on words he can’t say as Eskel continues.

“You know what my first thought was when I saw you like this? When you were,” his voice hitches, and Geralt leans in closer. “When you were bleeding out. Positively dying. And all I could think was how much I want to kiss you, all of you. How beautiful you are. How perfect. It’s stupid, to think that,” he gives a wet chuckle and Geralt’s heart, now beating faster and faster with each word falling from his love’s lips, breaks a bit for him. “But that didn’t stop me from thinking it. And I haven’t stopped thinking it. So, yes, Geralt. I am staring.”

And where is love suddenly has so many words for him, Geralt has none to give back. Because his throat is blocked and hurts. Because there are tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over and tell tales of hopes he never allowed himself. No words because his racing heart already speaks loud enough.

“You prepared that,” he chokes out, aiming for lighthearted and failing by a landslide.

Still, Eskel chuckles, because of course he does. “Well, I have basically been soaking in hot water for three days now. Gives you a lot of time to think.” He nudges Geralt and traces the edge of a scale absentmindedly. It feels nice. Geralt never did that. Calming, sort of.

He cuddles closer to Eskel, who seems to get the hint and hums against him. And suddenly, just like that, it’s okay. It’s all okay. Their hearts match, and so do their smiles.

“I love you, Geralt. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Geralt swallows and closes his eyes. “Love you, too. Thank you.”

Nothing else matters.

#the witcher #geralt x eskel #geskel #geralt of rivia #witcher eskel #Nat writes floof #hi saph I hope this made you smile #💕

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